


Defenders Without Fear

by Dan_Francisco



Series: The Long War Shuffle [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game), RWBY, Team Fortress 2
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-24 10:10:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 63,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_Francisco/pseuds/Dan_Francisco
Summary: Two months after returning to Remnant from Earth, Yang and Weiss believe their lives are returning to normal. However, the appearance of Bradford - and a new threat - raises questions from everyone, and put Remnant under threat from much more than just Salem.





	1. The Stranger

It had been three months since Yang and Weiss had returned home from their experiences on the Avenger. Other than private reminiscing, they didn't speak of it. The risks were too great, Weiss reasoned, what if Ruby, or Ozpin, or Qrow walked in on them while they were talking about a past that, as far as anyone here knew, didn't exist? It just didn't make sense.

So, for the moment, they kept their memories, their experiences, everything they had learned on the Avenger to themselves. For the moment, the fight against Salem had quieted down as Qrow and Ozpin debated the best course of action.

Though, after spending two years waiting around for orders, it felt usual for Weiss and Yang. It wasn't any less boring than the Avenger, but at least they were with people they truly knew, and didn't have the threat of alien invasions hanging over them.

“Hey, you two,” Qrow said to them as they hung out on a couch one day, “something weird's happening a couple miles from here. Wanna check it out with me?”  
“Who else is going?” Yang asked, already prepared to grab her gauntlet.  
“Ruby and Blake are already in.”  
“I guess I'll go too,” Weiss said, closing her book.  
“Good. Get yourselves ready, I'm gonna go let Ozpin know what we're up to.”

Qrow left, leaving Weiss and Yang to their devices.  
“What do you think we're gonna be checking out?”  
“Who knows,” Weiss said. “I just hope it's not another false lead.”  
After about fifteen minutes, Qrow joined back up with Ruby, Blake, Yang and Weiss, all prepared to head out and investigate whatever it was Qrow had informed them about. Their travel took them about three miles out from the town they had been staying in, to a suspiciously open field, devoid of much of anything other than grass. The air tasted metallic to Weiss. Was there latent electricity in the air? This was strange.

“So...” Yang asked after an agonizingly long minute, “what exactly are we looking for here?”  
“Dunno,” Qrow said, taking a drink from his flask. “I heard a rumor there were some strange people hanging around here.”  
“So, what,” Blake said, “we're just going to sit here and wait for something to happen?”  
“No,” Qrow responded, “we're gonna be proactive. Don't you guys feel it?”  
“Something's off about this place,” Weiss noted. “I don't like it.”

Nobody else liked it either, and so began their process of searching for something, anything, some sort of clue as to why this place felt so wrong. Weiss and Yang looked at each other every so often, exchanging worried looks. They remembered the people on the Avenger told them of these kinds of feelings before they had found them.

“I found something!” Ruby yelled from across the way, drawing the rest of the team to her position.  
Weiss, Yang, Blake and Qrow converged on Ruby to find...a man, unconscious. The others held curiosity over his dress, wondering what an Atlesian soldier was doing in Mistral, while Weiss and Yang immediately recognized who it was.

It was Bradford.

 

They had carried Bradford back to their home, keeping him on a couch. Blake noted his forehead was unnaturally warm, prompting a cold, damp towel to be placed on it and keep him cool. Carrying with this, a blanket was draped over him as well. So far, Yang and Weiss hadn't told anyone they knew who he was.

“Strange guest we have,” Ozpin said, speaking through Oscar.  
“Found him unconscious in a field, if you can believe it.”  
“He doesn't appear to have any wounds. What could have happened to him?”

Weiss looked at Yang, worried. The all-important question was on her mind, and probably Yang's too: do we tell them? Yang's eyes were sad. Did she fear Bradford was dead? Maybe. We have to tell them, Weiss mouthed to her. I know, Yang mouthed back.

“What's the plan here, Oz? If he's out cold, could be a long time before he gets up.”  
“It's certainly a conundrum, isn't it?”   
“If we knew who he was,” Blake said, “we could probably find his family.”  
“He doesn't have one,” Yang said, drawing all eyes to her.  
The group collectively gave her a strange look, save for Weiss, who stood next to her and returned the stares.  
“And how do _you_ know that?” Qrow asked.  
“Because he told us,” Yang continued. “We know him.”  
“You didn't think that'd be useful information _earlier?”_ Blake asked, annoyed.  
“If he wakes up,” Weiss said, “he can explain everything. Hopefully.”  
Qrow shook his head, taking another drink from his flask.  
“This guy looks like he's my age,” he said, “how'd you meet him?”  
“You won't believe us,” Yang said.  
“Yang...it's _us,”_ Ruby said. “Why wouldn't we believe you?”

Weiss and Yang looked at each other, a silent conversation raging between the two. If Bradford was here, they had to know why. What had happened on Earth that he'd be here? What if there were others with him? What if, unthinkable as it was, Pyrrha was back?

“You know when Weiss disappeared for two weeks?” Yang said, folding her arms.  
Everyone nodded. Who could forget? It worried all of them the entire time.  
“Well, she wasn't wandering around with amnesia in the woods.”  
“What are you saying?” Ruby asked.  
“Somehow, I was on another planet. I don't know how, but I was three years younger and in my Beacon clothes.”  
“Fascinating...” Ozpin said, stroking his chin.  
“I was there, too,” Yang added. “We don't know how we got there, but all we do know is that Dust didn't work, so even if we had our weapons, they were useless.”  
“We had to fight a war against aliens that were invading Bradford's home. We fought alongside at least fifty other soldiers, if not more.”

“So let me see if I have this right,” Qrow said. “You were on an alien world being invaded by other aliens, and you decided to fight? So what, you two won the war for them in three days?”  
“More like two years,” Weiss admitted.  
“Is that some kind of joke?” Blake asked, angry. “Do you really expect us to believe that?”  
“Look,” Yang said, “time worked differently there, okay? I don't know how it worked either.”  
“Neither of us do, truthfully. All we know is that Central Officer Bradford's world was in danger, and helping them was our only way to get back home.”

“Then what brought him here?” Ozpin asked, the armor-piercing question of the hour.  
“We'd like to know as much as you would,” Weiss said. “Dr. Tygan said that us coming back here was the last chance we'd have to step through the portal.”  
“And who's this Dr. Tygan?” Ozpin asked, having sat down to process all this.  
“Resident egghead,” Yang filled in, “he and their chief engineer reverse-engineered a lot of alien tech.”  
“Alright, I think we're all a bit tired of revelation hour,” Qrow said. “Let's hope this guy wakes up.”

 

 

Three days passed before Bradford stirred, miraculously awaking from his coma-like state. Obviously, he was incredibly confused, almost reacting with violence had he not seen Yang and Weiss standing at the end of the couch.

“So,” he said, “it worked, then.”  
“Sir,” Weiss said, bowing slightly. “I hope you don't mind us asking so soon after you woke up, but...what are you doing here?”  
“First off, can we trust them?” Bradford jerked his head towards Qrow, Ozpin, Blake, Ruby, and now Ren, Jaune and Nora, the latter of whom had been informed of what had happened.  
“They're good people,” Yang said. “Friends and family.”  
“Alright then,” Bradford groaned. “Three years after you two left, ADVENT came back in force. They didn't want to occupy. They just wanted to kill.”  
“Oh my God,” Weiss said, covering her mouth with her hand.  
“I don't know how, but they upgraded everything. Stronger tech, more powerful forces, the whole nine yards. There's only a handful of survivors from the Avenger.”

Yang and Weiss looked at each other, worried.  
“Who's left?” Weiss asked, unsure if she wanted an answer.  
“The Commander's alright, if that's what you're wondering. Price, Amari, Tygan, Shen, they're safe.”  
“Who else?”  
“What's left of Misfit 1-3. Killip, Hannah, Dudley. O'Deorain's still kicking.”  
“Moira?!” Yang asked, blood boiling.  
“Bravo 1-1 is up, for the most part.”

Weiss went over the names and faces in her head, worried. What had become of Menace 1-5? Where was Rex? Freeman? Moira was obviously safe, still eluding karma, but what about Pyrrha?  
“What about Menace?” Weiss asked, fearful of the worst. Bradford sighed, never a good sign.  
“Captain Rex sacrificed himself to make sure we all got through to here. I'm sorry, ladies.”  
Weiss felt tears form in her eyes, looking over to see the same in Yang's. They held each other close as Bradford explained to the others that Captain Rex had been their commanding officer during their time on the Avenger.

“Freeman is still alive, too, I hope. Tygan said we might be scattered if we got here, it happened to you two after all.”  
“Hold on,” Qrow said, “so you mean to tell me that there's eleven of you that got out?”  
“Seventeen, actually,” Bradford corrected, “they're all probably just as lost as I am, if not worse.”  
“We need to find them, then,” Nora said.  
“What for?” Qrow said, hitting the flask again. “Sounds like you all figured out interdimensional travel. Just hop to another world.”  
“It's not that simple,” Bradford explained. “We need a portal. Our last one was on the Avenger, which if I'm right, is a smoldering hulk of a ship right now.”  
“Rebuild the portal, then,” Qrow suggested, shrugging his shoulders.  
“It's alien tech, we didn't get it out of a Cracker Jack box.”  
“A what?”  
“Hold on,” Jaune said, “these people are stranded here, without a home. Is there any way we can help?”  
“Tygan's afraid the aliens might be tracking us to here,” Bradford said. “These aliens have conquered dozens of worlds and enslaved entire species. They only wiped us out because we dared to fight back and win.”  
“So then we really have no choice,” Ren commented. “It sounds to me that we'll need all the help we can get against these extraterrestrials.”  
“I have to agree with Ren's assessment,” Ozpin said. “If these aliens seek to subjugate our world, we'll need your experience.”

“Alright then,” Qrow said, “guess we're going hunting for your buddies. Any idea how we'll find them?”  
“They'll be easy enough to find,” Bradford said. “I can give you sketches and background info on them if you give me some paper and pen.”  
Qrow agreed, rummaging around for enough for Bradford to give them brief descriptions of the other members of what remained of XCOM. Weiss and Yang stood close by, making sure that if Bradford described Pyrrha, they could intercept it. Both knew that Bradford was aware of Pyrrha's death on Remnant, but the question of whether Pyrrha could even be here was still up in the air.

 

 

After about an hour, investigations began once Bradford had compiled the sketches and information on each remaining member. They agreed to split up into teams, with RWBY tasked to find the remaining Menace 1-5 and Misfit 1-3 members. Jaune, Ren and Nora were asked to find Bravo 1-1, and by default Price, while Qrow and Oscar/Ozpin dedicated themselves to finding Tygan, Amari, Shen and whoever else may have been left.

The search parties radiated out from their “base” in Mistral, heading across the corners of the continent and talking to villagers, travelers, anyone who might have seen people suddenly appearing. Though the towers were still down, they were able to communicate with one another, and a trend began emerging – all rumors they found had one thread in common. That thread was a massive, sudden explosion, leading to the air tasting like metal, much like when they had found Bradford. RWBY's travels took them to Wind Path, where merchants claimed an insane man had suddenly appeared, attacking anyone dressed in red. This sounded suspiciously like Killip, forcing Weiss and Yang to worry for Ruby's safety. Would he mistake her signature black and red cloth for an ADVENT trooper?

“So, this Killip,” Blake said, “Bradford's description isn't telling us much. What's he like?”  
“He's intense,” Weiss said.  
“Ruby,” Yang said, “I want you to hang back if it turns out to be him.”  
“What?” she asked. “Why?”  
“He sees red, he thinks it's an enemy. The aliens used a lot of red and black in their uniforms, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say you fit the bill, sis.”  
“Aw, c'mon,” she pleaded, “I'm not an alien!”  
“Yeah, _we_ know that,” Yang said, _“He_ doesn't. I don't want any of us to get hurt because of him.”

As they neared the site where Killip was supposedly ambushing convoys led by red-clothed people, the air fell silent. Only the crunching of RWBY's boots and shoes could be heard. Weiss looked around – perfect spot for an ambush. Killip had picked his field well.

“ALRIGHT, MAGGOTS,” somebody shouted from behind a rock, “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, AT LEAST FROM THIS SIDE!”  
Yup, that was Killip all right.  
“First Sergeant!” Yang called out. “It's me, Yang! Remember?” Yang stepped forward, gesturing for Ruby to step back.  
From behind the aforementioned rock, Killip poked his head out, his eyes still covered by his helmet. He looked at them suspiciously, before grinning and stepping out.  
“Haha, Private Yung,” he said, “I thought I'd never see you again! Alright men, come on out, all clear.” Killip gestured for others to come out from the rock, revealing Hannah and one of the few members of Misfit Weiss had never met.

“Yang,” Blake said quietly, “what's going on?”  
“Just roll with it,” Yang said. “Don't correct him on names. It doesn't work.”  
“Who's all this with you,” Killip asked, walking forward with a shotgun in his hands. “No aliens, I hope.”  
“No, no aliens, sir,” Weiss said. “They're our teammates.”  
“Even that _red team_ bastard over there?”  
“W-who, me?” Ruby asked, positively shaking in her boots.  
“Sir, that's my sister,” Yang said, stepping in front of him in case he decided to aim at Ruby.  
“Oh, right!” Killip exclaimed. “Good to meet you, Ying's sister!”

After bringing Killip and his squad up to speed, and a few introductions all around, Yang agreed to head back with Misfit 1-3 to Mistral to ensure primarily that Killip didn't manage to kill anyone on the way back, but also to make sure they got to Bradford alright. One less now, Ruby, Weiss and Blake continued their search, now on the lookout for what remained of Menace 1-5.

They had been searching for the better part of a week, with not much to show for it. Each lead they pursued revealed nothing. So far, they hadn't even found anyone matching Freeman or Moira's description, though Weiss believed that was because both could so easily blend in with the general population. Aside from his oddities, Freeman could easily pass as any regular person.

“Hey,” Blake said one day, heading into Weiss's hotel room, “I think I have something on this Moira.”  
“Ugh,” Weiss said, rolling her eyes, “can't we just pretend we never found her and leave her to die?”  
“What's with you and Moira, Weiss?” Blake asked, looking at Weiss strangely.  
“I'm sure Yang would have more than a few words for you on that subject,” Weiss responded, “but the important part is she conducted research that led to Earth's genocide.”  
“Are you serious?” Blake asked. “That's not on this report.”  
“I don't think Bradford believes it's relevant.”  
“Well, how dangerous is she?” Ruby asked.  
“Honestly? I don't know,” Weiss said, shrugging. “She's clearly insane, though. I'd exercise caution.”

Blake and Ruby deferred to Weiss's judgment, and so their investigation on Moira led them back into Mistral, or at least the outskirts of it. Locals reported a woman who often appeared and disappeared like a ghost, stalking over people seemingly at random. Others reported seeing strange orbs throughout the day. This could only be the work of Moira.

Tracking Moira proved to be difficult. She had been spotted across no less than a dozen blocks, often simultaneously. Weiss, Blake and Ruby decided to split up and cover as much ground as possible, keeping in contact with each other as much as possible. If one of them spotted Moira, it wouldn't take long for the others to group up. Weiss walked around a lonely shopping center, oddly quiet for this time of day. According to shopkeepers, Moira had been scaring away customers, what with teleporting all over the place and casting forth orbs. At this point, Weiss was convinced that Moira was only doing all of this because she found it amusing.

“I was wondering when we would meet again,” Moira said, suddenly appearing behind Weiss.  
“I have orders to bring you in,” Weiss said to her, turning around to face her. Just as she did, though, Moira disappeared just as fast as she appeared.  
“Heading here wasn't for naught, then, good.”  
“I need you to stay here,” Weiss said, informing Blake and Ruby that he had found Moira.  
“And miss out on all the fascinating knowledge this world has? I think not.”  
Weiss looked around her, tracking Moira's movements as she played with her orbs, bouncing them harmlessly off walls and pillars.  
“You need to listen to me,” Weiss said. “You could be in serious danger here.”  
“Oh, really,” Moira chuckled. “Why should I take orders from a _child?”_  
“Because this 'child',” Weiss mocked, “knows things you don't.”  
Across the plaza, Weiss saw Ruby and Bleak heading towards them. Moira too saw them, and prepared herself for a fight.  
“More interlopers,” Moira said. “I suppose you have a plan?”  
“They're not _interlopers._ They're my teammates.”  
“Hm. Interesting.”  
“Weiss!” Ruby said, guarding herself against any reaction from Moira. “Is this her?”  
“Yes,” Weiss said, gesturing to Moira. “Moira O'Deorain. Still a sergeant?”  
“Lieutenant, now,” Moira corrected, before bowing before Ruby and Blake. “Pleased to meet you.”

Blake and Ruby nodded to acknowledge her, and after some short debate, Blake elected to head back with Moira, promising to update Yang when she got there. Helpfully, Moira also pointed Ruby and Weiss in Freeman's direction. That direction was between Mistral itself and an outlying settlement, under a bridge where Freeman had declared himself to be the “troll king”, demanding money and cell phones from whoever passed by. The lien that was tossed to him by bemused travelers seemed to satisfy him, though rumors sustained that he was never happy having a scroll, demanding something more substantial.

Freeman was about as easy to convince to go with them as Killip was, although he complained the entire way back about how he had to see Weiss again. Freeman also ranted about how he was pissed off that the alien world he traveled to in the past wasn't this one, noting it was “a hell of a lot better” than some “floating rocks in space”.

Weiss and Ruby ignored him.


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remnants of XCOM reunite at Mistral. Yang and Weiss are confronted by the truth, and an argument over Pyrrha boils over.

Upon returning to their base in Mistral, introductions went all around, with Blake, Ruby, Jaune, Ren and Nora meeting Price, Amari, Killip, Freeman, Moira, and the remains of Misfit 1-3 and Bravo 1-1. Conspicuously absent was Qrow and Ozpin, both of whom reportedly had been in another part of the building since finishing their last search. Amari in particular was glad to see Weiss and Yang again, offering to recount her stories for their friends to bring them up to speed. Price took it upon himself to pull Yang and Weiss to the side.

“Your friends Qrow and Ozpin are an odd couple,” he said, folding his arms.

“Qrow's family,” Yang explained, “and Ozpin is…well, Ozpin.”

“You know they found Nikos and whisked her over to that wing right quick?”

 

Weiss and Yang looked at each other, then back to Price, worried. Had anyone else seen her? Did Jaune know she was still alive? Who was liable to talk about Pyrrha?

“Where was she?” Weiss asked. “We thought we would come across her, but...”

“Somewhere to the west of here, on the coast,” Price said. “So then, your stories were true, huh? She died here?”

“Yeah,” Yang muttered, looking down to the floor.

“Well, what are they doing over there?” Weiss questioned.

“Don't know,” Price replied. “This Ozpin lad seemed pretty shook up about it.”

“Yeah…Ozpin's actually like, a couple hundred years old.”

“Guess there's a first time for everything,” Price said, lighting a cigar.

“Where exactly are they?” Weiss asked. Price told them he spotted them taking Pyrrha to the balcony area, demanding that they not be disturbed. In return, Yang and Weiss asked Price to make sure people knew not to talk about Pyrrha, not until something changed.

 

Weiss and Yang quietly slipped out, heading for the balcony. The door leading out was closed, and through it they could hear Ozpin and Qrow talking to each other, but not loud enough to make out words through the door. Was Pyrrha there with them?

“Only got one choice here, Weiss,” Yang said quietly. That option was go in, and see what was happening. Nothing else could really be done, and Weiss knew it.

“Alright,” she said just as softly, “time to make everyone angry all over again.”

Together, Weiss and Yang opened the door, revealing Pyrrha sitting in a chair, burning a hole in the floor, and Ozpin and Qrow surprised at the intrusion.

 

“Didn't you two get the memo?” Qrow asked. “Nobody's to disturb us.”

“I think it may be too late for that, Qrow.” Ozpin sighed, turning to face them. “When were you two planning to tell us that Miss Nikos was alive?”

Yang gulped, and Weiss couldn't help but sigh heavily.

“We didn't think you'd believe us,” Weiss said after a while.

“Heh, aliens, invasions, interplanetary warfare, somehow Pyrrha being alive is the most believable of it all.”

“We made a promise to Pyrrha,” Yang said. “She didn't want anyone to know.”

“It's true,” Pyrrha chimed in, “I was afraid that knowledge would only hurt my friends even more.”

“Commendable, Miss Nikos,” Ozpin said, leaning on his cane, “but that still leaves us with questions.”

“Like how are you still alive, for one?”

“Truthfully?” Pyrrha said. “I still don't know. I think my time on Earth was a way for me to make up for what I did here.”

“Interesting,” Ozpin noted. “I haven't heard of reincarnation on another planet before.”

“We haven't heard of there _being_ another planet either, Oz.”

Ozpin did nothing but hummed, nodding his head in agreement.

“I don't think we'll have many answers in the coming days. Regardless, we should prepare if this alien threat is as serious as Bradford claims it is.”

“It _absolutely_ is,” Yang said. “Some of their troops are more terrifying than the Grimm.”

“I doubt that,” Qrow commented.

“You wouldn't if you saw what we did,” Weiss said.

 

Either way, Ozpin and Qrow had decided they had nothing further they could lecture or interrogate Pyrrha about, and thus allowed the three of them to leave. Weiss left the balcony with Pyrrha and Yang, finding a message on her scroll. Blake wanted to talk to her and Yang. Alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Blake closed the door as she and Ruby stepped into Weiss's room, making sure nobody could hear or interrupt them. She looked irritated, while Ruby just was confused about it all. It was hard to read Ruby's face sometimes.

“We need to talk about these people we brought here,” Blake opened, folding her arms.

“What about them?” Yang asked, shrugging.

“They're weird,” Ruby whined, crossing her arms in front of her.

“That's what happens when everything you know is ripped away from you,” Weiss said.

 

“These people are _way_ beyond weird, though,” Blake said. “Have you talked to any of them?”

“We lived and fought with them for two years,” Yang reminded her, “what do you think?”

“They're insane!” Blake said, angry. “Terrorists! That Tyson guy, he openly bragged about destroying a clinic!”

“Because the aliens were using it to genocide people!” Yang shot back.

“And you _believe_ that?!”

“I don't have to, I saw it myself!”

“Where's the proof, then,” Blake interrogated, “because all I hear are stories! I can't trust them!”

“Do you think we trusted them when we joined the Avenger?” Yang asked.

Blake groaned, shaking her head. “You understand how insane this sounds, right?” Blake asked. “I've seen all of this before.”

“How do you expect us to give you proof if all the evidence is gone?” Weiss asked.

“Something! Anything! I don't care! Just explain to me why you believe these people, because I don't get it.”

“Because the aliens killed three million people and turned them into a little green vial,” Weiss said, staring Blake down.

 

Blake and Ruby both stared back, mouths open. Ruby looked like she was about to puke.

“That can't be right,” Blake said shakily, “maybe they got it wrong-”

“They didn't,” Yang said, despondent. “They had the names of everyone in that vial. The aliens used their clinics to lure them in and just...process them. Like they were just a product or something.”

“Can we talk about less depressing things?” Ruby asked, collapsing to her knees. Yang immediately headed over and sat next to her sister, comforting her.

“Blake,” Weiss asked, “you said something about a Tyson. Did you mean Dr. Tygan? He indirectly helped make those clinics.”

“No,” she said, tilting her head to the side, “One of their soldiers, Tyson Hoseman or something.”

“I don't remember anyone like that,” Yang said.

“Me neither,” Weiss noted, “maybe he was in Price's squad?”

“I thought you were with Price's squad when you found me. Hey, Blake, go point him out to Weiss. I'll stay here with Ruby, alright?”

 

Blake shrugged, heading out with Weiss to go and find this mysterious Tyson. Through the veritable crowd of people that now occupied the common area, Blake and Weiss waded their way to a dark-skinned man clad in a field jacket Weiss recognized as German, coupled with a pair of combat pants she didn't recognize, asleep on a couch. His jet-black hair was practically nonexistent below an equally dark softcap.

 

Blake shook his shoulder, prompting him to wake up.

“Hmm?” he asked, blinking and staring at them, probably wondering what they wanted.

“You're Tyson, right?” Blake asked, folding her arms.

“Lieutenant Holzmann,” he said. “Who're you?”

“I'm Weiss Schnee,” Weiss said, introducing herself, “this is my friend Blake Belladonna. I heard you were on the Avenger.”

“Yeah, 'till it blew up,” he said, setting himself upright. “What d'y'all want?”

“I'm...curious, I suppose,” Weiss said cautiously, “because I don't remember ever seeing you on the Avenger when I was there.”

“Oh yeah,” he replied, a faint glimmer of recognition passing over his face. “You were on Menace, right? The spec-ops shitbird squad.”

“I don't know if I'd call it _that_. What squad were you in?”

“Hotel 1-4. You might've known us as the Bad Luck Charms.”

“Why's that?” Blake asked, striking a closed-off pose.

“Heaviest casualties out of any other squad,” Tyson answered, almost bitterly. “Everyone reckoned being assigned to Hotel was a death sentence.”

“I can't say I remember any talk about Hotel 1-4,” Weiss admitted.

“Consider yourself lucky, then. Now, do y'all mind? I'd like to get back to sleep.”

 

Weiss and Blake considered this acceptable, and left him alone. Blake clearly didn't trust him, whispering to Weiss as they walked away that she thought he was dangerous. Another text came in, this time for both Blake and Weiss. Jaune, Ren and Nora wanted to talk too. Jaune only described it as “important”.

 

Weiss and Blake headed back to Weiss's room, where Yang and Ruby still were. Ren, Jaune and Nora were also there, Jaune staring out the window with his back to them as Ren and Nora sat together on the bed.

“What's going on?” Blake asked, closing the door again.

“When were you going to tell us?” Jaune asked.

“Tell you what?” Blake asked, looking at the rest of RWBY for help.

“Not you,” he said, turning to face Yang and Weiss. “When were you going to tell us?”

Blake and Ruby both swapped between looking and Yang and Weiss, confused.

“What's going on?” Ruby asked, worried.

“We made a promise,” Yang said, narrowing her eyes.

“Promise to who?” Blake asked, furrowing her brow at Yang.

“So they don't know either, then?” Ren asked.

“Know _what?!_ ” Blake demanded.

“Pyrrha's alive,” Jaune said, anger written all over his face. “Qrow told us. Figured we would want to know.”

Ruby gasped, while Blake just formed fists.

“If this is some kind of sick prank,” she began, cut off by Jaune.

“It's not,” he said. “Apparently, she's been alive this entire time, and just didn't choose to come back here with Weiss and Yang.”

“Who the hell _are_ you people?!” Blake asked Weiss and Yang. “Why would you keep something like that secret?! Didn't you think we'd want to know that?!”

 

Ruby's soft crying punctuated the dead silence that followed Blake's outburst.

“Pyrrha asked us not to,” Weiss explained, a plea that so far was falling on deaf ears, “she was afraid it'd hurt you, all of you.”

“This is ridiculous!” Blake yelled. “First you hide why you were gone for two weeks, now you hide the fact our friend's alive? I don't know who you are anymore.”

“We're the same people you went to Beacon with,” Yang shouted back, “this doesn't change that!”

“I'm not sure,” Jaune said, eerily level-headed considering the circumstances.

“What did you want us to do,” Weiss asked, “explain that we fought another war for two years in the span of two weeks? You barely believed us when it was just Bradford.”

“It at least would have softened the blow of finding out Pyrrha's still alive,” Ren noted, squeezing Nora's hand.

“Yeah, how many of you would have actually believed us if we have done that, huh? You _all_ would have called us crazy.”

“The truth isn't crazy,” Jaune said. “I would have believed it.”

“You only believe it now because you can't deny the people standing in front of you!” Yang yelled. “If Bradford wasn't here, Price, Ana, all of them, you wouldn't have believed a word we said!”

“You know what,” Blake said, “Yang's right. I wouldn't have believed it. I _still_ don't believe it. I'm out of here.”

 

With that, Blake left the room, slamming the door behind her as she departed. After an agonizingly long time, Ruby too slid away from her sister, saying she'd prefer to be alone for right now. Slowly, Jaune, Ren and Nora also left, none of them saying a word to Weiss or Yang. Once again, Weiss and Yang were alone, sitting in a room with nobody to stand by them.

 

“Well, we did it again, Weiss,” Yang said, “Yippee.”

 

* * *

 

 

Blake sat in her room, alternating between crying because once again she had up and abandoned her friends, and wanting to punch every wall in the room due to the deception. She was okay with tracking down these bizarre people. She was okay with the idea that she'd have to involve herself with another war.

 

But she wasn't okay with the fact that her friends had lied to her.

 

Yang and Weiss had looked her in the eye and said that Weiss had wandered off, unsure who or where she was for two weeks, and that Yang had broken off from the search party to look on her own. They sold that lie, and she bought it like a thirsty man in the desert. A knock came at her door. Must have been Yang or Weiss, hoping to make up for this gross violation of trust.

“Go away, Yang,” she said.

The knocking became more insistent.

“Go _away_.”

Again, the knocking came again, almost urgent. Blake sighed, getting up and unlocking her door, opening it and ready to tell Yang or Weiss off again.

 

But it was one of the newcomers instead. Which one was this again? One of their captains?

“ _Ahlan,_ ” the old woman said, bowing slightly. Blake took note of her eyepatch – what had happened to her?

“I'm sorry,” Blake said, “I don't think we've been introduced.”

“Captain Ana Amari,” she said. “I couldn't help but overhear the conversation you had with your friends.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Blake responded, about to close the door.

“Not even over a cup of tea?”

Somehow, Amari produced two cups of hot tea, seemingly out of nowhere. Where had she gotten them from? When did she even _make_ it?

“I...”

“You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I have plenty of tea.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Blake allowed Amari in, taking the cup of tea and sitting cross-legged on her bed, while Amari slid out a chair and sat in it, sipping on her cup.

 

Neither woman said anything for a while. Blake's cup began to run dry before she even thought of saying anything.

“It's the lying that hurts most of all,” she said. “I'm more upset they lied to me than anything else.”

“They had a good reason to lie,” Amari said, pouring out a fresh cup for both of them.

“I still don't understand it.”

“Look at it this way, child. If you had found me here, and I told you I came from a world that was under alien invasion and described every horror I saw to you, would you believe me?”

Blake sighed, shaking her head.

“Exactly. That's not a failure. Many of us thought Weiss was crazy when we first found her.”

“Really?”

“The first thing she did was point a weapon at Bradford and demand directions to a place that didn't exist. What would you do in that situation?”

“None of this is helping.”

“Maybe it won't. All I can do is hope, hope that not only will you mend your rough patches with your friends, but that we can stop the aliens before they unleash hell on this world.”

“What do you care about my friendship with Yang and Weiss?”

“Because I've seen too many people die before they could say what they wanted to,” Amari said, finishing her cup and gathering her tea supplies. “Your friends are wonderful people, child. They're even fiercer warriors.”

 

Blake sighed again, finishing her tea. The tea didn't make her feel any better, but at least Amari's words could probably help her. She saw it was getting late. How long had she and Amari sat there? Blake sighed, getting ready for bed. If nothing else, maybe she could do something worthwhile tomorrow.


	3. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XCOM begins to rebuild in preparation for the alien's return. Blake finds Tyson suspicious.

The coming week brought preparations for the newly-arrived XCOM forces, who had already set to work recreating their banner and finding a suitable location to centralize their operations. The building that RWBY, Qrow, Ozpin, Jaune, Ren and Nora had been using wasn't suitable to the task of hosting a paramilitary force, and was far too cramped to house them all.

Ultimately, it was decided to simply construct a custom building, combining the features of a modern military base with more creature comforts. Tygan and Shen set out to find and purchase any and all scientific and engineering equipment they could get their hands on, especially textbooks that would help them get their bearings in this new world.

Perhaps as a surprise to everyone but Bradford, it was revealed that a cache of Earth weapons had been hidden on Remnant some time ago, by who nobody knew. All that was known was that it was on Menagerie, somewhere in the desert. Considering the desert was a dangerous location even to those who knew how to fight, it was decided RWBY, Qrow, Bradford, Captain Price, and Lieutenant Tyson Holzmann would head to the cache to secure it and bring it back.

Blake wasn't particularly happy having to head back to Menagerie with a bunch of people who clearly didn't fit the bill of Faunus. Maybe for Price and Bradford, they could provide a reasonable excuse, but Tyson? The rest of her team? Nobody would delude themselves into thinking they were anything but humans.

While on the ship to Menagerie, Blake had given them a brief rundown of the island and its history, giving out the abridged version and going into detail where relevant. All they needed to know right now was that the desert was considered a death trap, and rarely did many make it out alive.

“Half-decent island, uninhabitable desert for miles,” Tyson commented as he heard the landscape details. “Reminds me of Australia.”  
“Of where?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Continent from Earth. Brits dumped all the criminals they didn't want on it.”  
“Prison colony,” Price corrected. “They earned their freedom there.”  
“Yeah, because London didn't want someone like Jack the Ripper escaping.”  
“Can you all focus, please?” Blake asked, annoyed. “This is serious. The desert isn't the only threat here.”  
“Right,” Bradford commented. “The Grimm. What's our plan if we come across some?”  
“Honestly?” Blake said. “Run. If the Grimm there decide to pursue us, there's not a whole lot we can do.”  
“Hell, that's better than my plan of curling up and dying,” Tyson snarked. Blake shot him a dirty look. Blake gave further instructions for them to keep their heads down while on Menagerie. There were still a lot of Faunus that hadn't forgiven humans for what they did, and she couldn't guarantee they'd all look the other way. It was better to just keep a low profile and not draw too much attention to themselves.

Thankfully, that part was relatively easy. A few deliberate bumps from strangers here and there, but the XCOM people kept their cool and didn't let anything affect them. For now, at least. Their trek into the desert was expected to take at least a day's worth of travel, so before they stepped foot into the desert, they had made sure there was enough water for at least two day's worth of travel.

The desert was featureless, the only real discerning feature for miles around being rolling dunes that changed with each blow of the wind. Grimm tracks dotted the landscape, though how old they were nobody could tell. All they could do was keep pushing. The sun beat down on them as they walked for hours, keeping their direction by way of a compass. It seemed like they were no further from where they had walked in hours earlier, the same unchanging dunes in front of them.

“Hold on,” Price said suddenly, “what's that rock doing there?”  
Price pointed to a rock about half a mile out, a stark contrast to the dunes that had so far been the only thing they'd seen.  
“It doesn't look like it belongs,” Blake observed.  
“Must be the cache site,” Bradford concluded. “Let's check it out.”

The group moved forward, each member on watch for any shenanigans. Tyson, Qrow, Yang and Ruby pulled guard duty as the others examined the rock, trying to figure out what secrets, if any, it held. Blake didn't see anything that jumped out at her, like a secret button or something. The only thing really unusual about the rock was its size, far larger than anything that should have been out here.

“Hope y'all got something for us,” Tyson announced, “I've got eyes on three tangos, northwest.”  
“What do they look like?” Price asked.  
“Dunno, these things look familiar to y'all?” Tyson must have been asking Qrow, Yang and Ruby.  
“Older Grimm,” Qrow said. “They shouldn't bother us.”  
“Got something,” Weiss said, “I think it's a door of some kind.”

The others headed to Weiss's side of the rock, which had opened up to reveal a door, leading to the interior of the rock. It looked like it was hollowed out. Someone had clearly taken great lengths to make sure whatever was in this cache would be hidden away for a long time.

Bradford and Price volunteered to investigate it further, disappearing inside the rock for some time, before emerging with armloads of weapons. Finding it was one thing, now they had to move them. Price estimated at least a hundred weapons of various types, with ammo to spare. Trucking the supplies back to Mistral would be a challenge, not only in just pure weight but legality. Not even Bradford was sure how they'd get all of this back. It wasn't like they could just load it all up onto a ship and call it a day. People would ask questions.

Possible solutions for the issue ranged from just being upfront about it, which was Qrow's solution that was quickly rejected out of hand, to figuring out a way to smuggle them across borders. Bradford suggested attempting to conceal them by packing them in crates, boxes, anything. Aside from ideas such as carrying each weapon and a small amount of ammunition one person at a time the entire way to Mistral, that seemed like the only real plan. To further aid in preventing questions, it was decided the crates were to be labeled as basically anything other than weapons from another world. Price oversaw packing each weapon and appropriate ammunition into the crates, making sure Blake, Ruby, and Qrow didn't get rounds mixed up between them.

“These all look the same to me,” Blake said as she draped belts over weapons.  
“Better to keep all the seven-six-two with the NATO weapons,” Tyson noted. “I don't want to get back and have to do a fucking scavenger hunt for rounds.”  
“I'm sure that'd be a tragedy for you,” Blake responded.  
“Look, when there's a dozen people who all need ammo, I ain't wasting time digging around other boxes trying to find the right one. All I need you people to do is put these belts in these boxes, and not question why.”  
Blake's brow furrowed. Who did this guy think he was, handing out orders like he owned the place? Fuming silently, she and the others kept at their work, aiming to finish packing the boxes by the end of the day, whereupon they'd find a crew willing to hold them on their ship for the trip home.

Two hours later, they had wrapped up the boxes, just waiting for Price and Tyson to check each one and give them the go-ahead. Price stood by with a clipboard, taking notes as Tyson inspected them. So far, it was going well. Tyson noted the work was sloppy, but serviceable. At least, until he got to one particular box.

“What the fuck,” he said, “who the hell packed this one?!” He held a couple belts of ammunition in the air, clearly angry.  
“Uh,” Ruby said, stepping forward, “I-I did.”  
Tyson threw the ammunition down, frowning as he walked over to her.  
“You packed that box with 7.62 _Soviet_ ,” he said, “All the weapons in there are 7.62 _NATO_. Why would you pack a box full of the wrong type of ammunition?!”  
“What's the difference?” Blake asked. “They're the same size, aren't they?”  
“Three millimeter difference in those rounds,” Tyson explained, “but those three millimeters makes it impossible for those weapons to use that ammunition. Didn't I tell you _exactly_ what rounds to put in that box?”  
“Back off,” Yang said, crossing to defend Ruby, “it's not Ruby's fault she doesn't know the difference. Weiss and I didn't when we were first there.”  
“I'm sorry,” Tyson said, “I didn't realize your name was Ruby Rose. Maybe I should go back and check _all_ these boxes, then, see if the rest of you managed to fuck it up.”  
“Lieutenant,” Price said, “Continue with your inspection. We can fix it if we find another box with NATO in it.”  
“Respectfully, sir, I have to disagree,” Tyson replied. “What if we lose the boxes with NATO rounds in them, or all the boxes with Soviet? I'm not about to have an entire crateload of weapons be worthless because someone packed the boxes wrong.”  
“Holzmann,” Price said, firmly this time, “we'll fix it if we find it. Continue your inspection.”

Tyson sighed, shaking his head and looking disdainfully at Ruby. Blake could tell just looking at him that he didn't consider this over. Who did he think he was, coming off like this? She watched him through narrowed eyes as he finished his inspection, flipping out again at a box packed by Ruby that had the wrong ammunition. Like Price had predicted, though, they could easily just swap the belts between them, and order was restored.

As they waited for a ship to pass by that would take their cargo, Blake pulled Yang and Weiss away from the others, hoping to find some answers. She made sure they were far out of hearing range of this so-called Lieutenant and his friend Price before freely speaking.  
“I need you two to answer something for me,” Blake said. “Was everyone on the Avenger like him, or is he a special case?”  
“Who,” Yang asked, “Holzmann?” Blake nodded, to which Yang just shrugged. “I don't remember anyone like him. He's weird, even for the Avenger.”  
“Yeah,” Weiss added. “He's way more uptight than anyone we knew.”  
“I don't like it,” she said, “he reminds me too much of Adam. Just...everything about him is wrong.”  
“I'm pretty sure he's not as psycho as Adam,” Yang said, chuckling.  
“No,” Blake responded. “He's _worse_. He almost brought Ruby to tears back there, all because of some ammo.”  
“I'm not saying his response was entirely rational,” Weiss said, “but it was a legitimate concern.”  
“You're kidding, right? He freaked out. Ruby didn't know the difference, how could she?”  
“Blake's right, Weiss,” Yang admitted, “Not even Killip would yell at someone like he did. Not for that small a mistake.”  
Right as Weiss was about to respond, Qrow entered, pressing his flask to his lips.  
“Hey,” he said after finishing his drink, “we're heading out soon. Bradford wanted me to spread the word.”

Blake looked at Weiss and Yang, mouthing to them that this conversation wasn't over. Their ship had arrived, and as their duplicitous cargo was loaded, the captain invited them to make themselves at home on his ship. They had a ways to go before landing back near Mistral, time for Blake to watch this Lieutenant and observe him more carefully.

 

* * *

 

  
Tyson didn't seem to do much other than sleep and talk to himself in strange languages Blake didn't recognize. Was it one of those Earth languages she had heard about? Sometimes Price joined him in speaking one of them, though truthfully she only knew there was an actual difference between them thanks to careful listening. Blake concluded that Tyson spoke these languages in an attempt to prevent somebody from listening to him, but ruled out the idea that he knew she was watching him. If he did, he would have begun speaking to Price exclusively in the one they both knew, not switching between the two in casual conversation.

Perhaps more frustratingly, Blake found she couldn't learn _anything_ about him. His conversations with Price only focused on their strategy upon returning to Mistral, or debating the benefits and drawbacks of certain weapons. What was she to do? It drove her insane. When he didn't have anything he needed to do, he just slept. When he had some kind of duty, he became obsessive over every detail, responding like an enraged animal when something was amiss or somebody messed up.

Eventually, she figured out he kept some sort of journal. She had spotted him writing it in at one point, but he quickly hid it when he thought he was being watched or someone had spotted him. What secrets did this journal hide? She had to find out. Consequences be damned – this man was a threat to her team, she had to know everything she could about him.

She decided to make her move at night, infiltrating Tyson's room. She knew exactly where he kept the journal, a dog-eared spiral notebook that had undoubtedly seen better years. It was hidden in a drawer on his quarter's dresser, perhaps one of the more obvious of spots. He perpetually kept his door unlocked, citing the need to be ready for anything, and so actually getting in was exceedingly easy.

Blake kept her steps light as she moved through his room, careful not to make too much noise lest he awake and determine _her_ a threat. Slowly and carefully, she opened the dresser and retrieved the journal. Just as quietly, she stepped out and closed the door behind her, checking back to make sure she hadn't aroused Tyson from his slumber. So far, so good.

Blake stepped away from his door, breathing a sigh of relief and heading back to her quarters, intent on studying the journal as much as she could. She had only seen him write in it when he was in his quarters, and hadn't noted a substantial pattern, and estimated she would have at most half a day to read it through. More than enough time.

Back in her quarters, Blake flipped through the journal, expecting a semi-daily writeup of the day, but instead it was just...names, none of them she recognized. Notes were written underneath each name, sometimes scratched out and replaced with another. She quickly realized these must have been people Tyson had served with on the Avenger, or at least knew in his life.

She reread some of the pages she flipped past, seeing that he had noted Price to be a good leader and someone he was proud to learn from. Amari had a similar note. He wrote down he believed himself and Captain Rex to be likeminded. Nothing on Killip except “Nuts”. For some reason he marked two people as one, calling them “the odd couple”, only to later mark out one of their names, and then noted underneath both of their notes “K.I.A”.

Eventually, she found Weiss and Yang's entries. Apparently he thought Weiss was from somewhere called Germany. His initial note on her was less a note and more a nickname – Princess. If only he knew, Blake thought. This nickname was scratched off and replaced with something else, _Böse Hexe_. What did that mean? Blake didn't know. Likewise, Yang's entry only had “Hothead” written in it, soon replaced by “Firebrand.” Pyrrha's entry was "Spartan."

Blake found herself flipping through the pages even more, hoping to find some kind of entry on herself, Ruby, Qrow, Ozpin and her other friends. Maybe it was a strange curiosity. Maybe it was a drive to figure out his psyche even more. Jaune was noted as “Flatfooted”. Nora “unhinged”. Ren “Silent but deadly”. Qrow “alcoholic”. Ozpin “Schizophrenic”.

For Blake, he had first written down naive, then crossed it out to replace it with idealistic. This too was crossed out, and supplanted by confusing, before finally he seemed to settle on complicated. He added an additional note reminding himself to confirm “rumors” that he supposedly heard. The journal didn't dive into what Tyson thought those rumors to be, however.

Blake sighed, her curiosity partially sated. On the whole, however, she felt like she had learned nothing. He kept notes on everyone he met – why? What was the purpose? For him to look back on and revise if necessary, or a way to keep himself grounded in what to Blake sounded like a world devoid of logic and reason? Blake turned off her light and went to sleep, aiming to return the notebook during breakfast the next day. An endeavor she had hoped would reveal answers turned out to have done nothing but give her questions.

 

* * *

 

  
She woke up the next day at her usual time, acting like everything was normal. Tyson and Price already were eating when she headed into the ship's small mess hall. If she was quick, she could get Tyson's journal back into his room, possibly before he could even realize something was wrong. By her time, she would be in and out in under five minutes.

She watched carefully, eating quickly just to make sure she had enough time. Tyson left, leaving Price alone with his meal, and in short order Blake finished hers as well. She had to make sure that she got the journal back before Tyson could potentially look for it. He'd know immediately someone had took if it was missing.

She shadowed Tyson, who looked almost like he would be heading to his quarters, but instead seemed more content to simply hang around, looking out at the open ocean. He leaned against the deck railing, staring out at the sea. He must have heard her footsteps, as he turned to look at her, nodding to acknowledge her presence but nothing more, turning his attention back to the view.

Blake hurried back to her room, working quickly to get the journal and head back to Tyson's quarters. She didn't see him out on the deck on her way to his room, and feared he might have been in there, but a quick glance inside revealed nobody was present. Blake figured he must have gone to talk to Price, no doubt reporting for some sort of duty.

Cautiously, though, she opened the door, looking around to see if maybe she had missed something. Thankfully, she hadn't, and satisfied nobody was in the room, she walked over to the dresser, opening it and putting the journal back inside. Sliding it shut, she was about to head out when she heard the door close. It...shouldn't have done that. That could only mean…

Tyson stood in front of the door, his arms folded and a frown plastered across his face. He gestured to a chair. Blake refused to take it, but he didn't seem to mind.  
“You want to tell me what you're doing snooping around?”  
“I think you're a threat to my team,” Blake said flatly.  
“Ain't the first time I've heard that.”  
“Why do you keep those notes on everyone?”  
“Why do you _care?_ ”  
Blake narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his motives.  
“I hope you know I don't trust you at all.”  
“Yeah, I kinda got that impression. You done snooping around, or do I have to bring this up with Price?”

Blake sighed, shaking her head. What did she care if Price knew?  
“You can tell him, I don't answer to him.”  
“Ayup,” Tyson said, “ _you_  don't. Your friends did. Unless you forgot?”  
“My friends aren't party to whatever politics you think you have in mind.”  
“I'm giving you a chance here, Belladonna. I don't care if you think I'm a threat, but you don't get to go through my shit. I don't appreciate being spied on, so I'd like it if you stopped.”  
“I'll do whatever I have to in order to protect my team,” Blake warned.  
“Good,” Tyson noted. “You do just that. I ain't gonna be your problem when the aliens come.”  
Apparently feeling that he had made his point, he opened the door and gestured for her to walk out.  
“Now, please,” he said, “kindly get the fuck out of my room.”

Blake glared at him, slowly walking out. She stared him down the entire way, making sure he knew she would be watching his every move. He returned her gaze, watching with equally suspicious eyes as she headed out the door. Once Blake had left, he closed the door, after which she heard an audible click. He had locked it, perhaps for once since arriving on this ship.


	4. Nacht und Nebel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyson investigates why Blake would want to steal his journal. The return to the half-finished base brings changes.

Admittedly, Tyson had hoped he didn't have to confront Belladonna like he did. He didn't like forcing people into situations they could avoid. But dammit, she had given him no choice in the matter, he reasoned, she broke into his room, stole his personal items. He couldn't forgive that. Perhaps more egregiously, he didn't know what Belladonna hoped to achieve with this stunt, and that made him suspicious. It made him think. What motives did she have? She claimed protection for her team, but that team was fractured. He had overheard Amari talking to Price about an argument they supposedly had. It was the same night he had been reintroduced to the Princess, like he had ever forgotten her. He had to investigate this.

Making sure Belladonna had left, Tyson slipped out of his room, locking it securely in case she decided not to heed his warning, and headed for Price's quarters. Two knocks on the door. Price slid the door open, almost surprised to see him. Tyson rendered a salute, which the superior officer returned.  
“Tyson,” he said warily, “what brings you here?”  
“I need to talk to you, sir,” he answered, waiting for permission to enter.  
Price nodded, gesturing for Tyson to head in and take a seat. Tyson did so, sitting on an old chair that had seen better years, no doubt.  
“What's on your mind?”  
“You know anything about this Belladonna, sir?”  
“Blake? Weiss and Yang's friend, as I understand it. Why?”  
“I have some suspicions about her, sir. Would you be able to help me?”  
Price's eyes grew suspicious, and he folded his arms.  
“Help you with _what_ , Lieutenant?”  
“I just want to talk to Schnee. I ain't intending to start a witch hunt.”  
“Not yet, anyway,” Price scoffed. “What do you need to talk to Weiss for?”  
“Just some cursory details. If it's alright with you, sir, I'd prefer to be as subtle as possible.”  
“So you come to me for help?”  
“If I go ask to see Schnee privately, Belladonna will be there, and she'll know I'm investigating her. But, if you ask to see Schnee and I'm here, she won't be aware of any subterfuge until after I've confirmed if I have something or not.”

Price sighed deeply, stroking his chin in thought.  
“Bloody hell,” he said after a long few minutes, “I hate it when you've got yourself a point. Alright, I'll make it happen. You just get your suspicions today?”  
“That's correct, sir.”  
“Then we'll wait a day. If you're on to something, calling her up right away is going to raise red flags for Blake. You alright with sitting on this?”  
“Perfectly fine, sir,” Tyson said, nodding.  
Satisfied, Price nodded as well, asking of Tyson had anything else he wanted to talk about. Since there wasn't anything he felt necessary to bring up, Tyson left Price's room, heading back to his own.

Once there, he pulled out his notebook once again, flipping to the page that had Belladonna's entry. He crossed out “confusing” and put “enigmatic” in its place.

 

* * *

 

  
Tyson and Price waited the prescribed day, and the next morning Tyson made sure to eat his breakfast early and quick, heading to Price's quarters to await Schnee. On his way out, he heard Price speaking to her, asking to see her in private after breakfast, refusing to divulge any more details in “mixed company”. Good, Belladonna wouldn't question it until after Schnee had played her part. Setting out a chair for Schnee opposite of Price's bunk, he waited.

About forty five minutes later, Schnee arrived with Price in tow. She seemed surprised to see him there, and Price stepped in front of the door, locking it behind them to make sure nobody could intrude on their clandestine meeting.  
“What... _is_ this?” Schnee asked. Tyson gestured for her to sit, which she did.  
“I have some questions about your friend Belladonna,” Tyson began, staring her in the eye.  
“Blake?” Schnee asked, confusion all over her face. She looked to Price for help, but didn't receive any.  
“What does she know about XCOM?”  
“Why do you want to know?” she asked, crossing her arms defiantly.  
“That's not important. Tell me what she knows.”  
Schnee tilted her head at him in suspicion, possibly debating what to say.  
“She knows XCOM is a paramilitary force dedicated to stopping the aliens. We told her that you were good people. Happy?”  
“Is that the _exact_ terminology you used?”  
“I-I don't know, what does it matter?”  
“Has Belladonna been acting strangely lately?”  
“No. Why do you want to know?”  
“Weiss,” Price broke in, “we know you and your team had an argument. Amari told me about it.”  
Her face betrayed her shock for a moment, before returning to its neutral state. She took a deep breath, almost as if steeling herself to reinforce the lie.  
“Yes, we had an argument, but that happens sometimes. I still would like to know why you're so insistent on knowing this.”

Tyson looked to Price, who just shrugged. It was Tyson's show as far as he cared, apparently. He looked back to Schnee, studying her face to figure out whether she was being obstinate on purpose or genuinely trying to look out for her friend. Probably a mix of both.  
“Alright, guess there ain't no need to beat around the bush any longer,” Tyson said. “Realistically, I can't stop either of you from repeating this, but I'd like it if neither of you let what I'm about to say leave this room.”  
Price and Schnee both looked at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity, waiting for him to elaborate.  
“Two days ago, my personal journal went missing. Yesterday, I caught Belladonna returning it to my room. She was doing everything she could to make it look like it had never been gone. When I asked her why she had it, she told me she considered me a threat to her team.”  
“Blake would never _steal_ anything,” Schnee protested.  
“First time for everything,” Tyson said. “Fact of the matter is, _your_ friend broke into my room and took my property, and tried to cover it up. Why?”  
“I don't know,” Schnee said, narrowing her eyes. “Why don't you ask why she thinks you're a threat?”  
“Why do _you_ think she thinks that?” Tyson challenged.  
_“I don't know_ ,” Schnee shot back. “But I'm starting to see why she _would_.”  
“Alright, you two,” Price interrupted. “Weiss, you're free to leave.”

Schnee thanked Price, and left the room. After she closed the door, Price turned to face Tyson, his arms crossed and an upset look on his face.  
“I thought I told you to get rid of that journal.”  
“It helps me process my thoughts.”  
“Lieutenant, I understand your suspicions, but neither you or Blake are clear in this. I'd suggest you drop it before we make things worse.”  
“How could they _possibly_ get worse, Captain?”  
“These people are helping us, and we'll need them as much as they need us when the aliens come. Go get rid of that journal.”

Tyson sighed, heading out of the room. Once Price had made his mind up, not much could dislodge him. For what it was worth, his conversation with Schnee hadn't done anything to allay his suspicions, and he certainly wasn't about to get rid of the journal. He had too many memories in it, too much value to just toss out like garbage. From here on, Tyson had to be more careful.

 

* * *

 

  
Returning to Mistral was relatively uneventful. Qrow had been sent ahead to retrieve a few able-bodied people to help cart the cache to their new base, and potentially get a vehicle to do so. Transferring the supplies back took the better part of three days, sooner than Tyson had expected. In the interim, the base was progressing beautifully, well-fortified against potential enemy attacks, barracks for plenty of expansion, and a semi-functional med bay already up. All they needed now was a bar, engineering, and a command center.

These latter elements would likely take some time. Until then, all people like Tyson could do was help when possible and stand guard against either Grimm or alien incursion. Thus far, nobody had reported anything that matched alien sightings, but Ozpin had impressed upon them that it was likely all they would know was Mistral until they could establish communications with other continents. Tyson often wondered why these people had put all of their stock into four towers that could be destroyed by a sufficiently motivated enemy. Perhaps they knew something he didn't.

Regardless, another month passed before the base could be called operational, and while there was a long way to go, the local people had managed to scrounge up some laborers willing to work for as much cash as they had on hand, which admittedly wasn't much.

Of course, during this time Tyson could also observe Belladonna more carefully. He noted that, by now, she probably knew of his meeting with Schnee, but if she took any action he didn't notice it. Belladonna avoided him in the hallways, and only spoke directly to him if absolutely necessary. Her friends mostly followed that pattern, save for Rose who interacted with anyone. Even then, his interactions with Rose were fleeting, since even she found reasons to not spend much time talking to him.

However, these short and brief talks and indirect observation did give him a better insight to Belladonna's psyche. From what he could glean from overheard conversations and context, she used to be a much more private person than she was now. How she could do that was beyond his powers of speculation, but he suspected it had to do with her background as a Faunus. The few Remnant history books he had been able to get his hands on only made this theory more credible.

But why the sudden change? What had made her change her mind, to become so much more open, even if that openness was reserved? It confused him. She kept things to herself. Not even her close friends knew much about her personal life before school. Belladonna was an enigma compacted into the shadows, preventing anyone from peering inside to learn more. The entire ordeal was frustrating.

In the interim, Tyson had also been assigned the task of teaching the others of XCOM's tactics, noting in reports to Price and Amari that while tension remained between Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren, and Nikos, he could sense some between Nikos and the other members of so-called “RWBY”. These reports also made note that Belladonna most of all seemed resistant to the idea of using XCOM's small-unit tactics, never taking notes like the others did and frequently questioning the logic in some tactics. While annoying, Tyson took it as further evidence that Belladonna had an ulterior motive, though that wasn't part of the report.

Bradford and Tygan had predicted that, any day now, the aliens would be making their move. For that reason alone, the members of RWBY, newly-reformed JNPR, Qrow and Ozpin had been asked to stay in the new XCOM base to assist in rapid response if necessary. By now, the barracks had been mostly completed, aside from a few rooms where there were no walls between bunks. These were simply left unused for the moment, as they didn't even have enough people to fill those beds at this point anyway.

By pure happenstance, Tyson had been assigned a room right next to the members of RWBY. Tyson wondered if it truly was chance, or if somebody had pulled some strings to make that happen. His roommates consisted of O'Deorain, Freeman, and Hannah, only the latter of whom Tyson actually tolerated. No matter, though, none of them would pose a security threat. Upon receiving his room assignment, Tyson immediately moved his things into the room, tossing a rucksack packed with what little he had onto a bed, claiming it as his. Hannah wasn't too far behind, claiming the one opposite his, while Freeman took the bunk above Tyson. That left O'Deorain with the only remaining bunk.

“These conditions are hardly ideal,” O'Deorain said, frowning at the rough nature of their room.  
“S'all we got, O'Deorain,” Tyson said, shrugging as he unpacked his things.  
“I would much rather be on my lonesome.”  
“Wouldn't we all,” Hannah commented.  
“I guess it's not too bad,” Freeman said. “At least the aliens aren't here yet.”  
“Don't you dare speak that voodoo into existence,” Tyson warned. “I'll shoot you myself if we get raided.”  
“Rather jumpy, aren't we?” O'Deorain smirked, barely containing her glee.  
“I hear we're getting our squad assignments tomorrow,” Hannah said, trying to change the subject.  
“I wouldn't bank on it, sergeant,” Tyson said. “I reckon Bradford's waiting for the aliens to make their move and go from there. Lotta squads got the shaft on our way here.”  
“Don't remind me,” Hannah said.

She referred to Misfit 1-3 losing half their membership on the trip to Remnant. Good men and women, Tyson remembered, killed before they could reach the gate. Only Hannah, Killip and Dudley remained of that squad, a veritable ghost of its former self. It'd be terrible had Hotel not managed to outdo it, where Tyson was the only survivor. He wondered how many squads that'd give them now, between the remains of Bravo, Menace and Misfit. Hell, even Hotel's title was outdone by Jester 1-2 being wiped out entirely when the aliens knocked on the Avenger's door.

However, now wasn't the time to think of the past. He had to look forward now, keep his guard up in case Belladonna was up to something. Finished unpacking his things, Tyson excused himself to report to Price and maybe see if his thoughts about string-pulling were true. Exiting his dorm, he nearly ran into Belladonna immediately, knocking into her and stopping both of them cold.

“What the-” she said, “watch where you're going!”  
“Sorry,” he replied. “Didn't think you'd be there.”  
She sighed, shaking his head. Undaunted, they both kept walking down the same path, suspicious to both of them. Tyson and Belladonna exchanged wary looks before slowing down and stopping in a standoff.  
“Where do you think _you're_ going?” she demanded.  
“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”  
“I asked you first.”  
“ _I'm_ reporting to my CO,” he said, drawing only a confused look from her.  
“Your _what?_ ”  
“Commanding officer, Price. What, did you not pay attention to any of my lectures?”  
“Not really, no.”  
Tyson laughed, not believing what he was hearing. “Alright, whatever. What's your deal, then?”  
“Funnily enough, I was going to see Captain Price too.”  
Tyson's smirk disappeared instantly. What did she think she was doing?  
“Don't fuck with me, Belladonna, what're you really up to?”  
“I just told you,” she said, crossing her arms. “I'm going to see Captain Price.”

Belladonna decided to keep walking, quickly leaving Tyson in the dust as he stood in the hallway trying to figure out what possible reason she could have for reporting to Price. He rushed to catch up with her, unfortunately just as she walked into the half-built command room, where Price, Amari and Bradford awaited. Tyson quickly saluted, which was returned and he was told to stand at ease. Belladonna ignored protocol and stepped forward, making a beeline for Price.

“Captain,” she said, “I was told to report to you after settling in.”  
“Good, I need you for a special task. You up for it?”  
“Depends on what it is.”  
“We need to communicate with our forces,” Bradford began. “I've been told radio relays are only a short-range solution. That about right?”  
“Yes, sir,” Belladonna said.  
“I need you to do whatever possible to find enough of these 'Scroll' devices to distribute to all squads. If that's not possible, then enough for all squad leaders will have to work.”  
“How many will that be, sir?”  
“We're looking at four main squads with subordinate leaders. Eight total, sixteen for backups in case they get lost or damaged.”  
“Alright,” Belladonna said. “I can do that.”  
“Get to it, then,” Bradford ordered, to which Belladonna made herself scarce.  
“Sir,” Tyson said, stepped forward to report to Price, “reporting as ordered.”  
“Lieutenant, I trust your quarters are alright.”  
“May I ask how it happened I'm next to Belladonna and her friends?”  
“Happenstance, Lieutenant,” Price answered. “Just how the groups fell.”  
“I see, sir. Have you been reading my reports, gentlemen and lady?”  
Amari and Bradford nodded, while Price stood like a statue, unmoving.  
“Lots of mentions of Blake in those reports, son.”  
Tyson shrugged. “Belladonna's the only one who refuses to participate, sir. I'm just making sure we're all aware of a potential issue.”

Price looked at Amari, who nodded. Why were they looking at each other? It was clearly a look for permission to say something, what was it? What had they been talking about?  
“Child,” Amari said, “we have concerns that your attention towards Blake is...unbecoming.”  
Tyson looked at them like they were insane, his brow furrowing, until he finally understood what it was they were implying. They thought he had some sort of _attraction_ to her. What in the world made them think _that?_  
“Sir, ma'am,” he said shakily. “I can assure you nothing like that is going on. I implore you not to confuse my criticisms for her classroom attitude as some deranged form of favoritism.”  
“We're not,” Price said, raising an eyebrow. “Our concerns were that you're still allowing the journal incident to cloud your judgment.”  
“John,” Amari said, “perhaps I should speak to the Lieutenant alone?”

Price nodded, allowing Amari to lead Tyson out of the command room, still shaking in anger and confusion at how catastrophically he had misread the situation. Amari walked him to what was informally called the break room, a small room for short meals and getting coffee, where she had apparently been busy brewing tea in the meantime. It seemed to have been finished, as she poured out a cup for both of them, setting it down in front of him.  
“I don't want any tea,” he said, sliding the cup away.  
“It's rude to not drink tea handed to you,” she said, sipping away. “Tell me the real reason you're so suspicious of Blake.”  
“Belladonna broke into my room, for what reason I still don't know. How would _you_ feel if someone violated your space like that?”  
“You're being foolish,” Amari said. “Blake is looking out for her team.”  
“I don't see how I'm such a big threat,” Tyson responded.  
“Do you think you can chastise a child for no reason and expect to be forgotten?”  
Tyson looked at Amari, unsure what she was talking about. She must have picked up on this, as she placed her cup of tea down and looked at him square in the eye.  
“You had no right to yell at Ruby Rose the way you did, Lieutenant,” she said, frowning. “Her failure to do her assigned tasks is on _you_ as a teacher and a leader, _not_ her. You should have looked in the mirror that day.”  
“Captain,” he tried to say, before she cut him off.  
“You still have much to learn,” she said, “but you haven't answered me. What makes you so suspicious?”

Tyson shook his head. She was going to press him on this until she got something, wasn't she? Amari's unrelenting stare proved it for him. “ _She broke into my room,_ ” he repeated. “What more than that do I need?”  
“You were suspicious of her before then,” Amari observed. “I could see it. Why?”  
“Belladonna's not being truthful with us,” Tyson said. “What if the aliens already have their infiltration units at work here?”  
“The aliens rarely made their infiltrators so obvious,” Amari noted.  
Dammit. She was right. Even the Thin Men weren't so blatant. His theory was falling apart at the seams by the second.  
“I don't know,” he finally admitted. “Something about her doesn't rub me right.”  
“Then figure out what it is,” Amari suggested, sipping her cup dry. “One more thing. I'd like for you to report to me from now on, Lieutenant.”  
“What?” Tyson asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”  
“John has enough on his hands,” she explained. “He and I decided this would be the best way to handle our new hierarchy.”  
“Alright then,” he said.

Satisfied, Amari poured herself another cup of tea, inviting Tyson to stay if he wished. But hell, if Amari and Price thought he was in the wrong, he really must have screwed up. He thanked Amari for the tea, of which he had drank two drops, and headed back to his room. He had a lot to think about.


	5. Talking while Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha tries to make things right. Ruby tries to understand the conflict between Tyson and Blake.

Pyrrha had no idea how to adjust back to life on Remnant. Spending nearly four years on Earth made her forget almost everything at home. She felt like a child, relearning concepts that, previously, she had known for years and mastered. She refused to recreate her once-signature sword and shield, preferring to keep using Themis as her main weapon. It suited her better now anyway, now that Jaune had incorporated elements of her past into his new weapons. It was better this way, she theorized.

 

At least, it was better if her old team didn't regard her with a lukewarm reception. Pyrrha knew they just barely acknowledged her enter a room, rarely spoke to her, or even recognized she existed anymore. She couldn't blame them. After all, she had _died_ here. How could anyone grieve the death of a loved one and then watch them appear in front of them like nothing ever happened? If it had happened to her, she would have thought herself in a fever dream.

 

At least the few friends she had left from the Avenger could provide comfort. It tore Pyrrha apart, spending time with Hannah and Micheal rather than Jaune, Ren and Nora, but...they didn't seem to even want to see her. It hurt, and if nothing else, she could take solace in the fact she still had friendly faces to seek out.

“You're pretty stressed,” Hannah said one day. “What's up, Pyrrha?”

“I don't know if I should talk about it,” she admitted.

“Ah, c'mon,” Micheal said. “You can talk to us, you know dat.”

 

Pyrrha smiled slightly. She could always count on Micheal Dudley to bring a smile to her face. Micheal had always been first to include Pyrrha after Weiss and Yang left, introducing her to the other members of Misfit 1-5 she had little time to get to know during her time on the Avenger. He had even been first to introduce her to Hannah, though she quickly informed Pyrrha that her name was actually Huang Shuyi. Hannah later revealed most people called her “Hannah” only because Killip had mistakenly called her that one day and it stuck.

 

“Well,” Pyrrha said, “it's my old team. I died here, and...I don't think they really believe I'm back.”

“Oh, right,” Hannah said, frowning. “We're not far from your home, right?” Pyrrha nodded.

“Aw jeez,” Micheal said, taking off his ballcap and rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, dat's rough.”

“Well,” Hannah asked, “do you think it'd help if you talked to them?”

“Maybe?” Pyrrha shrugged, “I...I think Jaune's having the hardest time of them all. I think he had feelings for me.”

“What, da knight in shining armah?”

“I don't think he thinks of himself that way,” Pyrrha said, chuckling.

“What do you have to lose, Pyrrha?” Hannah asked, tilting her head.

“I don't want to hurt them more than I already have.”

Micheal shrugged, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.

“If you ask me,” he opined, “I think they got more to worry about than you suddenly coming back from the dead.”

“Yeah,” Hannah added. “These aliens are no joke. I hope they're ready, all of them.”

“I don't think that helps,” Pyrrha said, frowning. “They're all capable fighters. I'm sure they're even better now.

“Hell, there ya go,” Micheal said, “they're fine, Pyrrha. Figurin' out how to kill the aliens will take a bit, yeah, but hey, may as well go check in with them.”

“I think there's still hope. You just need to go talk to them.”

 

Pyrrha was torn once again. On one hand, she would love to reunite with her friends, reform the friendship she had with them. On the other...what if they rejected her olive branch? She'd be devastated. Pyrrha waffled back and forth for some time, thanking Micheal and Hannah for offering advice, but ultimately not feeling she could act on it. She wasn't sure how exactly to broach the idea with them, but assigned to the same room certainly made it easier to form a plan to do so.

 

She waited a few days while Blake was out with Yang on the special assignment Price had given her. She didn't think they had many distractions now that Tyson's lectures on infantry tactics had ended. Pyrrha thus decided it'd be best to wait until after dinner one night. Jaune, Ren and Nora usually came back to the dorm after dinner to talk about the day before preparing for bed. It was the only real opportunity she had to clear the air.

 

None of them seemed surprised that she was back before any of them were. She had made a habit by now of taking some time to herself to collect her thoughts away from the others.

“Hey, Pyrrha,” Nora said, the only one of the group who ever acknowledged her now.

“Hello,” she replied, sitting up to look at them all as they walked in. “Can...we talk for a bit?”

Now they were surprised. Each of them were caught off-guard by Pyrrha's question. Jaune looked at Ren and Nora, both of whom shrugged in response.

“Sure, I guess,” Jaune said, leaning against the door. Ren and Nora sat down opposite of Pyrrha.

“I...I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds,” Pyrrha began. “I wanted you all to know I wish I could have changed what happened at Beacon.”

Jaune's face remained neutral, while Ren and Nora exchanged a saddened look. Pyrrha couldn't gauge their reactions quite yet.

“But, I can't wish that,” she continued, “when I was with Weiss and Yang, our captain told us there's no point in hoping for the past to change. I thought about all of you every day I was on board that ship, hoping I could say something to all of you, to tell you I was safe.”

“Why?” Jaune asked after Pyrrha finished, drawing all eyes to him. “Why didn't you come back with them?”

“I...” Pyrrha said, on the verge of tears. She hadn't expected to become so emotional already. “I was afraid. Weiss told me nobody knew what happened to me, except that I died. I was worried if I came back...I don't know, I'd stop existing on the way back? Does that make sense?”

 

“But what if,” Nora said, frowning, “what if you reincarnated like Ozpin did?”

“Weiss asked me that too,” she admitted. “I couldn't know for sure. I would have rather lived on that other planet than risk being lost forever, again, trying to come back here.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Ren said, his first words to her since she arrived on Remnant. “But why ask Weiss and Yang to keep it a secret?”

“Because I didn't want to hurt you again,” Pyrrha explained. “All of you. I thought I was in some sort of purgatory when I saw Weiss and Yang. Until we had to evacuate here, I still thought I was.”

“I don't get it,” Jaune said, shaking his head. “Why are you trying to justify this to us?”

“Because I want my friends back,” Pyrrha said, tears spilling from her eyes. “I thought about all of you every day for four years, wondering if I'd ever see you again, and now that I am...it's like I don't exist anymore.”

“To be fair,” Ren pointed out, “you didn't for us. We never had closure.”

“And I'm sorry I put you through that,” she pleaded, “I just want to be able to talk to you all again, but...if you can't forgive me, that's okay. I understand.”

 

Pyrrha stood up to leave, trying but failing to conceal her crying. She started heading towards the door, where Jaune stepped out of the way, but found herself stopped by Nora standing in front of her. Pyrrha was about to ask what she was doing when Nora hugged her, preventing her from moving anywhere. Slowly, Ren embraced her too, and then Jaune. Whatever pretenses she had about covering her crying fell away, and she could have sworn she heard or felt Jaune and Nora cry, too. She didn't know how long they held each other close, but she did know that, if nothing else, they had forgiven her. Whether this would be a return to normal or just step one of many remained to be seen.

 

* * *

 

 

The past month had been a roller coaster of emotions for Ruby. Since the people from Earth came, everything she knew had been turned upside down and what was already a complicated situation for her became even more complicated with news of alien invasion. Of course, it hadn't _started_ yet, but the doom and gloom of it hung over her like a storm cloud. She could keep up her positivity, but it was getting harder and harder to do it with each passing day.

 

Despite what Yang and Blake thought, Ruby was clearly able to see the lines that divided the camps that dominated the resistance headquarters. Blake and Tyson couldn't and didn't trust each other, each trying very hard to keep their spying on one another secret. Jaune, Ren and Nora were still uneasy that Pyrrha was back. Killip was on edge all the time, snapping at anyone for even the smallest of mistakes. Yang, Weiss and Pyrrha warned anyone who would listen about Moira. Only the Captains seemed above it all, and even they had their biases. It was exhausting. They should be unified against the aliens, not divided. She hated seeing her friends wary of every move. It was like the days leading up to Beacon's fall, just even worse. They didn't know Cinder was coming, but this time they have advance warning, and that just made everything worse.

 

“Hey, Ruby,” Yang said, waving a hand in front of her face,.“You there?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, snapping out of her stupor. “I'm just thinking, is all.”

“What about?”

“Everyone's so on edge,” Ruby lamented. “I'm worried about what'll happen when the aliens come.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Yang said, smiling to reassure her, “It was kind of like this on the Avenger.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sure, it sucked, since you never knew what would set some people off, but when the fight started? You didn't care. All that mattered was making sure we did the job.”

“It sounds like us,” Ruby said, smiling.

“It pretty much is,” Yang responded. “Guess we're not as different as you think, you know?”

“So...” Ruby asked, unsure whether she really wanted to poke this particular nest, “do you know what's going on with Blake and the weird guy?”

 

Yang was confused for a second, mouthing the phrase “weird guy” trying to figure out who Ruby was referring to. After a couple seconds, she figured out she was talking about Tyson, nodding.

“I wish. All Blake says is she thinks he's a threat.”

“He seems alright to me...”

“Even after he yelled at you back in Menagerie?”

“Well...I think anybody would be that angry if we were messing with Dust.”

“We weren't, though,” Yang said, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Ruby, really? You think he's an alright dude? I was ready to kill him that day.”

“All I'm saying is we need to work together to beat these aliens,” Ruby said, defending herself, “It's not going to help if we're at each others throats here.”

Yang sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. You don't have to convince me, though.”

“I know,” Ruby admitted. “It's on Blake. What do you think would have to happen for her to trust him?”

“I dunno,” Yang said, shrugging.

“Let's go ask her, then!”

“Wait, what?”

 

Before Yang could even possibly process was was happening, Ruby had grabbed her arm and together (though with some protests from Yang) they headed towards Blake, in the common area, nose-deep in a book. Her ears moved in response to hearing them walk to her, but she didn't recognize their presence until Ruby stood proudly in front of her. At that point, Blake seemed to realize they were there, looking up from her book confused.

 

“Uh...” she said, “Can I help you guys?”

“This was _not_ my idea,” Yang said, making sure nobody else was around.

“Blake, why don't you trust Tyson?” Ruby asked, pointing an accusatory finger at her. Blake's face flushed red, slamming her book closed and jumping up, looking around just like Yang did two seconds ago.

“Are you insane, Ruby?!” she said quietly. “This is _not_ the place to talk about this!”

“Hey,” Yang suggested, trying to calm Blake down, “maybe we should head somewhere private?”

“Gee, that would have been a good idea a minute ago,” Blake said coldly.

“Then we'll go to our room! Come on!”

 

Like with Yang, Ruby dragged Blake back to their room before she could process what was happening, Yang not far behind. Despite Blake's insistence that she didn't want to talk about it on the way back, Ruby was getting her answers. Besides, Blake knew by now that when Ruby wanted to know something, she would find out no matter what. Sufficiently motivated to sit down and talk it out, Blake sat on her bed, annoyed that she had been confronted about it all.

 

“Alright, Ruby,” Blake said, “what is it you want to know again?”

“You and Tyson don't trust each other,” Ruby explained. “What will it take for you to trust him?”

“I don't trust him because he's unstable,” Blake replied. “You've both seen it. He flips out over the smallest things, he brags about wanton destruction, and maybe worst of all-”

“He's cute?” Yang asked, half-teasing. Blake's eyes grew wide, and her face grew red again.

“Please tell me that's some kind of joke, Yang, because I'm _not_ laughing.”

“Oh come on,” Yang said, shrugging. “Look, I'm not a fan of the guy, but you have to admit it.”

“No! I'm trying to protect _us_ from a potential psycho, and you're over here making goo-goo eyes?! Ruby, you don't buy into this, do you?”

“I...I don't know if I'm the best judge of this,” Ruby said.

“I hope not,” Blake shook her head. “I can't believe this. If you two won't take this seriously, I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

“Blake, hold on,” Yang said. “I'm not saying we trust him. But, really, he hasn't done anything too bad since Menagerie.”

“Oh, really,” Blake said. “You want to know why Price wanted to see Weiss a day before we got back here?”

Ruby and Yang looked at each other, then back to Blake, both shrugging their shoulders. What could he have possibly done?

“He keeps a journal of every person he's ever met,” Blake explained, “and he takes notes on everyone he finds. He's been keeping tabs on all of us since he got here. He's been keeping tabs on you and Weiss since you were on the Avenger.”

 

Ruby didn't know how to react to this information. She looked to Yang, who looked about ready to kill someone, probably Tyson. Yang stood up, pacing back and forth to try and eliminate some of her anger, clearly failing.

“Alright,” Yang finally said after a long while. “What kind of notes?”

“Mostly nicknames, or observations of character,” Blake said. “He has longer notes on other people, but they're in a language I can't decipher.”

“So...then I guess he can't do anything to get your trust, huh?” Ruby asked.

“Not unless I see something radically different out of him.”

“Alright then,” Yang said, “I guess we're all on the same boat now. What's the plan?”

“There _isn't_ one,” Blake said. “So far he's stayed away from us. That's all I need or want. As long as that's how it is, I'm not doing anything else.”

 

At that point, there was nothing more to talk about. Ruby and Yang agreed with Blake that, unless Tyson started doing things to interfere with their team or tried to, there wasn't anything they could do. Although Ruby hated it, this tension had to stay. There simply wasn't any resolving it as long as Tyson was the way he was.

 

Or was there?

 

Ruby made herself scarce the next afternoon. Tyson had agreed to do guard duty that day, watching the horizons of the compound for any enemy, Grimm or otherwise. Weiss, Yang and Blake were off doing their own things today, leaving Ruby to find a way to talk to Tyson alone. Thankfully, there was no real restriction in place against Ruby going up to him while he was on guard duty.

 

She found him standing on one of the few finished balconies, his machine gun set up on a tripod to stabilize it. He didn't notice her heading up the ladder to his position, scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars, no doubt on watch.

“Um, excuse me,” Ruby announced, causing him to whip around before he realized who it was.

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head and sighing, “it's you. What do you want, Rose?”

“I, uh, just wanted to say hi,” she said, trying but failing to be casual.

“Fascinating. I have work to do.” He took his binoculars back up to his eyes, returning to scanning.

“So...I see you've been watching my friend Blake.”

“Dunno what you're talking about,” he said, sighing heavily.

“It's not really subtle.”

“I thought you just wanted to say hi?”

 

Oof. He had seen through her ruse.

“Okay...” she admitted, “I didn't really come up here just to say hi.”

“What a revelation.”

“Why don't you trust Blake?”

He sighed again, putting his binoculars down and into a pouch on his hip.

“Rose, you got ten seconds to tell me why you're asking all these questions.”

“Because I'm trying to get all of us unified against the aliens!” she shouted, “we can't fight as a team if we're looking over our backs all the time!”

“Alright, that was five. I'm a little impressed.”

“Will you tell me why, at least?”

“Because Belladonna's blinded by idealism,” he replied, “she thinks her people will be equal in this world, I have news for her – they won't. Where I come from, people have fought for two hundred years to have themselves recognized as real people, and not just things.”

“Your world is different!” Ruby protested. “Things have to get better here!”

“The fight for freedom is the same everywhere, Rose. No matter how much effort you put into it, you can't make prejudice and hatred go away. Whatever your friend thinks the freedom she fights for is, she's wrong.”

 

Ruby didn't say anything, dumbstruck by his cynicism. How could somebody who had been through so much, she wondered, have such a negative view? It didn't make sense to her. How could anyone see the things he had and just...be so jaded?

“Rose,” he finally said after a while, “unless you're about to relieve me, get outta my hair, alright?”

Shaking her head and sighing, Ruby left the balcony. If Tyson wanted to be like this, then fine. He could do just that. She really thought that entire conversation would go differently. But, at least now she had some more information. Somehow, some way, she'd make sure Blake and Tyson would trust each other, if even a little. That was her only goal now.


	6. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RWBY and Lieutenant Holzmann are sent out on a scouting mission after aliens are spotted in the area.

RWBY as a whole had been called to the command center the next day, where Captain Amari, Bradord and, strangely enough, Tyson awaited them. A map of Remnant was laid out on the table that Bradford had claimed as necessary. The officers looked serious, Ruby thought, not even Ana's usual pleasant demeanor could break through today.

 

“We have a confirmed alien sighting,” Bradford began. “On the coast here, about two kilometers away from a small settlement.”

“Given your extensive experience in the area,” Ana explained, “we've decided it's best to deploy you four to the area.”

“Awesome,” Yang said, putting her fists together. “When do we head out?”

“Not so fast,” Bradford interrupted. “Since we're not sure what sort of advancements the aliens have made since the war on Earth, you're not going alone. We have no idea how effective Dust is against the aliens' armor.”

“So does that mean Ana is coming with us?” Weiss asked, hopeful.

“Not quite,” Ana said, gesturing to Tyson. “Lieutenant Holzmann will be your squad lead for this mission.”

Ruby saw Blake and Yang instantly stiffen up. She could tell they were already getting ready to protest.

“Not a problem!” Ruby preempted, trying to stop a scene. “I'm sure we'll kick these aliens out of Remnant!”

 

Ruby suddenly felt too many eyes on her, looking around to see that, yes, there _were_ too many eyes on her. Everyone had begun staring at her, her teammates wondering if she was crazy, and the officers unsure whether to be confused or interested to hear more.

“I'm not agreeing to this,” Blake said after a while, folding her arms.

“You don't have to agree, child,” Ana reminded her. “It's an order.”

“I don't take orders from you, ma'am.”

“Blake!” Weiss said, indignant.

“Don't fret, Weiss, she has a point,” Ana said, clasping her hands behind her back and stepping towards Blake. “You're right, you don't take orders from me, child. However, I would recommend at the minimum tolerating the Lieutenant's presence. What if your weapons are ineffective against the aliens?”

Blake stared Ana down, unrelenting in her defiance.

“What if your weapons aren't effective either?”

“From what we know,” Bradford informed them, “conventional weapons should still work.”

“That's not an inspiring answer,” Blake said, still displeased.

“It's the best we have right now.”

 

Blake sighed. Ruby wasn't sure if she had really accepted this answer or if she just wanted to get it all over with.

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “When do we leave?”

“Wheels up in 5,” Tyson said. “I'd pack plenty of water if I were you.”

Bradford explained to them that a cargo ship that they had requisitioned for XCOM use was going to take them to and from the settlement, staying far, far out of range of where the aliens were rumored to be. They'd have to move on foot the two kilometers to the suspected area.

 

Until then, Ruby and the rest of the team packed what they needed. Extra Dust, copious amounts of water, and anything else they may need. Ruby strapped Crescent Rose to her waist, heading to the makeshift hangar where Tyson was already waiting for them, impatient as always. Yang, Blake and Weiss weren't far behind, Blake doing everything she could to avoid having to be near Tyson.

“Y'all are late,” Tyson said, looking at his watch and grabbing his machine gun. “Come on, we gotta go now.”

“Sorry,” Ruby said, desperately trying to get on the ship.

Once the five had made it on the transport, it took off, heading for the coast and a small village that nobody seemed to know the name of. Tyson remained uncharacteristically quiet during the flight, refusing to give them any information other than what Ana and Bradford had earlier.

 

An hour later, the transport touched down, and RWBY departed from it, with Tyson last off, waving it away as he made space. He consulted his map, and then directed them to head west from where they were, which would hopefully take them to the aliens.

“Listen up,” he said once they got underway, “rumors claim small alien force. Might be a squad-sized element, maybe as large as a platoon. Either way, we're outnumbered here.”

“Gee,” Blake commented, “what wonderful odds.”

“If the aliens hold to their usual deployments,” he continued, ignoring Blake, “should be some troopers and at least one officer. Might have a sectoid with them. Xiao Long, Schnee, either of you brief your friends on the various aliens?”

“Gave them the basics,” Yang answered.

“Good enough,” Tyson muttered. “Here's how this is going to work. Xiao Long, Belladonna, you two are my eyes and ears. I need you two to be forward of us at all times, 100 meters. Rotate back for verbal reports if necessary, but keep contact on your scrolls if you spot something.”

“Sounds good,” Yang responded, ready to go forward.

“Rose, you're sniper. Knock down any threats before they get too close. Schnee, you're on support. I need you to shut down any flankers and help Rose or I if things get too close. Feel free to move up to support Xiao Long and Belladonna, but your primary job is here.”

“What does that make you, then?” Weiss asked.

“I'm the centerpiece,” he explained. “I'll be suppressing the aliens and making sure they can't move up.”

 

“Uh, sir,” Ruby said meekly, “we uh, we have some tactics we already use...”

“Yeah, I've heard about your little plans,” Tyson replied. “All of them rely on having single targets to isolate and take down. If the aliens learned anything from the war, they won't let you isolate any of them for even a minute.”

“I hate to say it, Rubes,” Yang admitted, “but he's got a point. These aliens tend to group up a lot.”

“Hold on,” Blake said, “why do we have to take orders from you? This isn't our first fight.”

“Might not be,” Tyson said. “But for half of you? It's your first fight against ADVENT. Classroom theory is a helluva lot different than actually fighting them.”

“Ruby and I aren't idiots,” Blake protested, “we can handle ourselves.”

“I'm sure you can,” Tyson said. “All I'm trying to do is make sure we all come back in one piece. Follow the plan and we'll all be good.”

 

Blake sighed, shaking her head. They still had a long way to go, and if they kept this pace, they'd be at the rumored alien landing site near dusk. Tyson ordered everyone to “keep their heads on a swivel”, which was later clarified to just keep scanning the horizon for any enemy, Grimm, alien, anything. Their path took them through a dense forest, which broke after half a kilometer to open fields and rolling hills. It made Tyson uneasy, a tension that Ruby could feel. If the maps they had were right, the terrain in front of them would continue to be like this.

 

Another half-hour of walking brought them to the coast, where the grassland slowly faded to an otherwise lovely sandy beach. By now, Yang and Blake had already taken up their task of scouting forward. Yang had just reported back to Tyson, informing him that she saw the unmistakeable prints of ADVENT boots. No sectoids, or at least none she could track. Oddly enough, they seemed to have come from further west before suddenly turning and heading south, away from the village.

 

The bootprints were still relatively fresh, Yang also reported, indicating they couldn't have gone far. They hadn't passed by anyone on their way here, so logically the aliens had to be only a short distance away from them. Tyson reoriented them to head south, sending Blake and Yang even farther forward, maintaining a 100 meter interval between them to handle reports. They walked for another fifteen minutes, after which Blake had them stop, reporting she had spotted something. Tyson ordered the entire squad forward so he could personally observe what lay ahead of them.

 

“Looks like six troopers and an officer,” Tyson confirmed, putting away his binoculars. “Bog standard deployment.”

“What's the plan?” Weiss asked, crouching low next to Tyson.

“We have the height advantage on them. I want to play that as much as we can. Xiao Long, Belladonna, you two comfortable charging down that hill towards them?”

“For what purpose?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I need you two to screen them,” he explained. “They don't know how large a force we are. If you keep them distracted down there, Rose, Schnee and I can maintain fire from different directions on them.”

“That sounds suicidal,” Blake said. “Why not force them to us?”

“More likely to break contact and call up reinforcements,” Tyson said, shaking his head. “We have to hit them hard and fast.”

“Alright,” Yang said. “So while we're down there, what are you three going to be doing?”

“Rose,” Tyson asked, “reckon you can nail that officer?”

Ruby put Crescent Rose into its long-range sniper configuration, checking the officer with her scope and going through the range in her head.

“Probably,” she replied.

“Gotta be more solid than 'probably', Rose. Can you do it or not?”

“Yeah,” she said more confidently, checking the range again. It was an easy shot if he stood still.

 

“There's your answer,” Tyson said, unfolding his machine gun's bipod and setting it on the ground. “Get as close as you can, then Rose can kill that officer before he can touch base and call up a shock squad or something. Schnee, do what you can to support us all.”

Ruby scanned the battlefield they were about to wage war on, noting the aliens had ample cover in the form of some freshly-fallen trees. Had the aliens cut them down, or did the nearby settlement come out this far for wood? Ruby couldn't tell. They had gathered down at the bottom of the hill in a small group, walking slowly towards an unclear objective. Ruby heard the tell-tale sound of machinery next to her, the sounds of Tyson preparing his weapon.

 

Blake and Yang likewise moved further down the hill, creeping as close as they dared to the enemy. Tyson had given Ruby free reign to decide when best to take down the alien officer, as her shot would signal the beginning of the battle. Ruby centered her sights on the alien officer, casually scanning the horizon totally unaware of her. Checking Yang and Blake's progress, she waited one minute for them to get closer, then squeezed Crescent Rose's trigger, sending a Dust shot towards the alien officer, who fell satisfyingly. Good to know Dust was as effective as whatever Tyson had in his gun.

 

Speaking of, the second her shot was downrange, the other aliens had quickly become aware of their presence, turning in reaction to the shot. Already she could see Yang and Blake down the ridge, fighting. Tyson's machine gun was spitting out rounds, a horribly loud sound that echoed across the land even after it had stopped firing. Seconds later, the last alien had fell, spilling orange blood across the grass. It was surreal. Ruby was used to killing Grimm, but these aliens...they were so human-like. It disturbed her to think she had really taken away the alien officer's life. Tyson had already begun calling for their transport, declaring the area clear for now. Bradford requested they collect the aliens and their weapons for potential study, to see what they could learn from them.

 

Blake headed up to them, throwing her arms wide, confusion covering her face.

“You said this would be hard,” she said to Tyson.

“Yeah,” Tyson replied, taking a belt out of his machine gun and placing a fresh one in. “These guys were rear-line, mostly meant to handle partisans and light rebels.”

“He's right,” Weiss said. “But even then, Lieutenant, we didn't have much of a problem taking them out on Earth.”

“They had armor about equal to ours there,” he explained. “I had to pump at least twenty rounds into each of them this time. On Earth, two would have kept them down for good.”

“What are you saying then?” Blake asked.

“Armor improvements. Probably weapons too. These don't look like the same rifles they used during their invasion of Earth.”

“They look the same to me,” Yang observed, lightly kicking a rifle with her foot.

“Might be. Might not be. We'll know more when Shen and Tygan have a chance to look over them.”

 

Tyson soon ordered them to maintain a perimeter, holding until their transport could come retrieve them. The horizon was quiet, save for the distant roar of a far-off Grimm. No aliens were to be sighted for the next hour, after which their transport had made it to them, and the team got to work loading the aliens and their weapons into the transport. Other than the blood and spent casings from Tyson's weapon, there wasn't any indication that a battle had took place here when they took off, heading back for the safety of their base.

 

The trip back to XCOM headquarters was just as uneventful, aside from maybe a few suspicious glances exchanged between Blake and Tyson. Ruby recognized the issue – he kept track of them, for whatever reason nobody knew. But what she couldn't figure out is why this made him such a threat in Blake's eyes. If anything, she thought that Blake would see somebody like Killip as a threat, or maybe join Yang and Weiss's suspicions in regards to Moira.

 

It was all so confusing.

 

They touched back down at the headquarters. Hannah, Micheal and Freeman were already waiting, helping them move the alien corpses and their weapons to Tygan's lab and Shen's workshop, respectively. Ruby was just glad to be away from the bodies. She didn't want to keep smelling their strange blood on the floor of the ship. By this time, Blake had already gone her own way, escaping the second she had gotten a chance to. Tyson also had made himself scarce, claiming he needed to report to Ana.

 

“Something weird's going on,” Ruby said to Yang and Weiss when they had gotten back to their room.

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, swapping out her shoes for more casual ones.

“Oh come on, Weiss,” Yang said, grinning. “Don't tell me you didn't see the looks Blake was giving Tyson on the way back.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Weiss said, feigning ignorance.

“It doesn't make sense,” Ruby said, “they hate each other, why do they keep looking?!”

“Ruby,” Yang said, giving her a pointed look, “you're seriously not this blind, are you?”

“Hold on,” Weiss interrupted, “just _what_ are you two implying?!”

“Am I really the only one who's seeing this?” Yang asked. Ruby and Weiss shrugged, asking for answers. “Huh, I guess I am. Alright, look, as disgusting as it is that Tyson's keeping tabs on us, I think Blake's got something she doesn't want to admit, if you catch my drift.”

 

Ruby, unfortunately, did not catch Yang's drift. Weiss rolled her eyes, sighing at Yang's schoolgirl tendencies, while Ruby just stared at Yang, confused.

“Oh my God, Ruby, do I have to spell it out?” Yang asked, actually looking concerned for her sister.

“Oh!” Ruby said, finally getting it, “I see now!”

“There you go,” Yang said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“So you think Blake wants him to keep tabs on _other_ people!”

Yang and Weiss's mouths both dropped open, stunned at Ruby.

“N-no,” Yang said, shaking her head and putting a hand to her face. “Just. No, Ruby. What am I gonna do with you?”

 

* * *

 

 

Blake hated this. She had done everything she could to avoid drawing too much attention to herself her whole life, but more and more she saw Tyson's gaze upon her. Why? She _thought_ they had agreed to keep out of each others hair, but it seemed like with every passing day they were getting more and more entangled with one another. It was fucking infuriating. It was bad enough she had to live next to him, but now he was unofficially her superior? God, not to mention Yang implying he was actually _attractive._ That just made her blood boil even thinking about it. She sat on the balcony, sighing in frustration as she looked out on the setting sun. Alright, maybe he wasn't _that_ terrible to look at. He certainly wasn't the bumbling caveman she first thought he was. The madman actually had some brains to him, at least.

 

Oh God.

 

Was she really thinking this?

 

This can't be right. Blake clutched her head like she had a migraine, trying to push these insane thoughts out of her head as if her very ears could offer a place for them to go. She can't possibly be actually attracted to this sociopath, right? No, no, she was just shaken up over fighting actual aliens, that had to be it. There was no possible way that the idea of finding this idiot somewhat likeable was a sober thought. She slammed her eyes shut, but all she saw was his fucking face, stoic as he did basically anything.

 

She didn't know what time it was when she opened her eyes again, other than the once crimson hue of the sky had faded into a deep blue and black, reflecting her mood. She felt tears form. Why was she crying? Oh, right. Because she actually was thinking clearly, and this maniac was, somehow and someway, actually attractive to her. She heard someone climbing the ladder just to her left. She hoped to every possible deity it wasn't Tyson.

 

“Blake?” Nora asked, her boots crunching against the still-rough finish of the balcony.

“H-Hey,” Blake said, her voice cracking.

Dammit. Nora would know something was wrong. Like Blake predicted, the other woman could tell immediately, kneeling down next to her and putting an arm around Blake's shoulders.

“You wanna talk about it?” Nora asked, oddly quiet and compassionate for her.

“No,” Blake said, trying but failing to keep her tears at bay.

“Alright,” Nora said. “I'll be here as long as you need me to.”

Feeling the tears swell up again, Blake rested her head on Nora's shoulders, breathing deeply in content.

“Thanks, Nora.”

“No problem.”


	7. Clear Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha makes up for the past. Formal squads are assigned, but not everyone is happy with how the teams are laid out.

Pyrrha still had another conversation she needed to have. She and Ruby hadn't said much of anything since she had been found, mostly because Ruby had been busy helping others and on assignments given to her. There was a knot in Pyrrha's stomach as she headed over to Ruby's room, hoping the others wouldn't be there. She wasn't ready to talk to Blake again. Not yet. Pyrrha sighed deeply as she stood in front of the door, wondering how long she'd be standing here before someone decided to walk through it.

 

Eventually, she steeled her resolve and knocked on the door, and Ruby answered the door, in her pajamas. She could barely see Yang and Weiss behind the door, changing into their sleepwear as well.

“Oh,” Ruby said, “hey Pyrrha.”

“Hi, Ruby,” Pyrrha said, unsure what to really do. “C-can I talk to you?”

Ruby shrugged as she headed out the door, “Sure, what about?”

“I...I missed you, Ruby,” Pyrrha said. “I wish I could have told you how much I appreciated and valued your friendship, how you never saw me as anything other than _me._ ”

Ruby didn't say anything for a while, staring at Pyrrha with her huge doe eyes, which by now were just...looking depressed, almost. Silently, she stepped forward and hugged Pyrrha, clutching her tightly. Caught off-guard again, Pyrrha stiffened up, but relaxed and returned her friend's hug.

“I missed you too, Pyrrha,” Ruby said. “I just wish I didn't have to see you die.”

“I'm sorry I did that to you, Ruby. “

“Promise me something?”

Pyrrha looked at Ruby, curious.

“Please don't die again?”

“I don't plan to,” Pyrrha replied, perhaps a bit more grimly than she meant to imply.

 

Eventually, they had to break from their hug, and while not entirely satisfactory, Pyrrha had to admit it was at least good to talk to Ruby again. She seemed to have forgiven her, but Pyrrha could sense that, like with Jaune, Nora and Ren, there was still some uncertainty within her. Across the hall, climbing down a ladder, she saw Nora and Blake head towards her. Blake's face was puffed and her eyes red – what had happened?

 

“Are you alright?” Pyrrha asked out of instinct. Nora shook her head, and Blake didn't even seem to react to her presence. Pyrrha got the point; don't ask. Nora mouthed “I'll tell you later” to Pyrrha, leading Blake to her room. Pyrrha took the hint and headed to her own room, frowning. It troubled her to see Blake clearly upset about something, with no way to know what it was about. Perhaps it wasn't her place to pry. Either way, that scene would haunt her the entire night.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Nora made sure she and Pyrrha were the last ones out of their dorm, practically pushing Ren and Jaune out to make sure they didn't accidentally overhear something. Pyrrha wondered what all the secrecy was about, but didn't want to say anything to Nora quite yet, unless this was something far more serious than she initially thought.

 

“Alright,” Nora said when she was sure nobody was listening. “I don't know what, but something's up with Blake.”

“I had an idea,” Pyrrha mentioned, unsure this observation was worth all the cloak and dagger. “Is that it?”

“No,” Nora said, deadly serious, “I found her on the balcony last night, crying. I'm scared for her. What happened out there?”

Pyrrha shrugged. “Meeting the aliens in combat can shake a person up.”

“I don't know,” Nora said. “I want to ask her about it, but-”

“Blake has always been more of a private person,” Pyrrha pointed out. “I don't think it's our place to pry.”

 

Nora begrudgingly agreed, and with not much else left to discuss there, they now had to rejoin Ren and Jaune in pretending everything was normal, despite basically everything pointing to the fact it _wasn't_. The news of alien invaders, even a small squad according to Holzmann's report, had shaken JNPR and only inspired the others to prepare themselves for a fight. Ozpin and Qrow were constantly conferring with Tygan, Shen and Bradford, trying to find rational explanations that didn't involve extraterrestrial invaders.

 

Speculation was rampant about squad distributions. Veterans like Killip guessed everyone would be mixed up, mixing and matching teams like RWBY with those who had been on the Avenger. Yang and Weiss thought that teams would be kept together, with additions as necessary. Nobody could agree how large squads would be. For her part, Pyrrha was just hopeful she would get the chance to be part of her old team again.

 

“I swear,” Yang said offhand one day, “if they put me in a squad with Moira, I'm shooting her.”

“You never really explained that one to me,” Blake mentioned, dividing her attention between a book and Yang and Pyrrha's conversation.

Pyrrha instantly drew a breath, not at all thrilled about Moira being brought up again. So far Moira had devoted her time to studying Grimm and Faunus, the latter much to Blake's annoyance.

“She's fucking insane is what she is,” Yang said, furrowing her brow. “She experimented on people, joined the aliens first chance, Moira doesn't care what happens to people as long as she can do her sick experiments.”

“You injure me,” Moira crooned, suddenly appearing right behind Blake and grinning evilly. Instantly, Blake jumped as Yang and Pyrrha both gave Moira dirty looks.

“What,” Yang asked, “are you here to play with your orbs or just scare my friend?”

“Ah yes,” Moira said, looking with a disturbing curiosity at Blake, “the Faunus. If only I could learn more about you...”

“Over my dead body,” Blake growled.

“I see you're still taken in by Amari's propaganda,” Moira sighed, ignoring Blake for the moment. “How disappointing. I thought you would have heeded my words on the Avenger.”

“Why do you do this?” Pyrrha asked. “What do you gain?”

 

Moira grinned again, chilling Pyrrha to her very core. It still disturbed her to see Moira so callously view people as mere things to experiment on.

“Sociology is as important as biology,” she explained. “Not that I'd expect any of you to understand that. Biology's habits are hard to break.”

“How's about you understand _this_ ,” Yang said, standing up to square off against Moira. “You're on _my_ turf now, Moira. I'd play nice and keep out of my way.”

“Strong words,” Moira chuckled. “But the true struggle is for the superiority of ideas. I believe Lieutenant Holzmann has a few of his own. I wonder if they'll take hold here?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yang asked, forming fists.

“You should ask him,” Moira said, before disappearing again like a wraith.

 

Pyrrha breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Moira and Yang didn't come to blows, though she had lost track of how many times that made it now. She still never truly understood what Moira's intentions were, or why she insisted on annoying Yang as much as possible. Yang too breathed deeply, relaxing the tension that had built up inside her while Moira was here.

After a few minutes, Blake said, “Never mind. I see why you don't like her.”

Not even two minutes after that event, people began heading into the common area where Blake, Yang and Pyrrha were, conversations ongoing between all of them. These people didn't usually gather unless it was time for meals, and they were at least an hour past lunch. What was going on?

 

That was answered by Price and Ana taking place at the center of the room, urging everyone to gather around and have a seat where they could.

“Listen up,” Price called out, “we're dividing you all into squads. We've done what we can to keep certain elements together for cohesion, and if any of you are unhappy, I suggest you take it up with Amari.”

“These will be your official squads, and who you'll be working with on deployments against the aliens,” Ana explained. “Situations may demand we mix it up, but this how it will work most of the time.”

Price began going through the list, calling out first the squad name and then the people assigned to it. Bravo 1-1 was up first, consisting of him and the three members of it who had made it through. Unsurprising, Pyrrha thought.

“Echo 1-2,” he continued, “Captain Amari's squad leader. Lieutenant Holzmann, Xiao Long, Rose, Schnee, Belladonna.”

Pyrrha was acutely aware of Blake's growing eyes and exasperated look crossing her face, clearly unhappy with this entire idea. At least, Pyrrha suspected, RWBY was kept whole.

“Misfit 1-3,” Price said, “Killip's squad leader. Lieutenant O'Deorain, Sergeant Shuyi, Sergeant Dudley, Branwen. Delta 1-4, Freeman's squad leader. Sergeant Nikos, Arc, Valkyrie, Ren.”

 

Pyrrha looked around, trying to judge the reactions of her team. Jaune looked around, trying to remember who Freeman was. Ren and Nora seemed nonplussed, just happy that they hadn't been put into different squads. Even _if_ Freeman was her squad leader, Pyrrha decided, it wasn't all doom and gloom. She was able to fight alongside her friends now, like it was old times again. Just...a bit different from then, of course.

 

Price and Amari recommended the various squads meet up with each other, also adding that squad leads should at least put names to their subordinates if they didn't know them already. Pyrrha didn't have to take long to locate Freeman, sitting in a corner and grumbling to himself. Ren, Nora and Jaune quickly grouped up with her, the four of them heading over to Freeman.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered, “I forgot how much being an officer _sucks._ ”

“Uh, sorry?” Jaune said, shrugging.

“We're all capable, Freeman,” Pyrrha reminded him, though she wasn't sure he really believed it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Freeman said, waving a hand as if to shoo them. “Whatever. As long as you don't get me killed, we'll be fine.”

“I think you'll find our skills satisfactory, sir,” Ren said, bowing slightly.

“The fuck,” Freeman muttered again. “What's with the Chinese new wave crap? Actually, whatever. I don't care. Hey, uh, Pyrrha, yeah, I'm gonna make sure people know to tell you important things. I have paperwork to do.”

 

Although Pyrrha seriously doubted that claim, Freeman scurried off anyway, leaving JNPR to stand there, dumbfounded.

“Is, uh, he always like this?” Jaune asked.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Pyrrha answered.

“He doesn't instill much confidence,” Ren noted.

“Well,” Pyrrha said, “the important thing is we're together.”

“Yeah,” Jaune said, smiling, the first time he had in a long while. “We are, aren't we?”

“We should celebrate!” Nora shouted, a wide grin all over her face.

“Sure,” Pyrrha said, smiling back. “Go on, I'll catch up with you all later.”

 

Watching her team head off to celebrate, Pyrrha headed over to where Hannah and Micheal were, both hanging around as Killip and Qrow talked to each other. Qrow didn't seem terribly impressed with Killip, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. Pyrrha started to regret heading over there, until Micheal saw her approaching and waved her over, grinning.

“Yo, what's up?” Micheal asked, nodding his head.

“I just wanted to see how the new Misfit is doing,” Pyrrha said, folding her hands behind her back.

Qrow shrugged, taking the cap off his flask. “Could be worse, I guess.”

“Listen here, Barcode,” Killip growled, “drunk on the battlefield is no way to be! I will not countenance such behavior!”

“Like I said,” Qrow said after having taking his drink, “name's Qrow. I'm only taking orders from you because we all have bigger problems.”

Pyrrha turned to Hannah and Micheal, pointing to Qrow. “Does he-”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, smirking. “He's too stubborn to admit that First Sergeant won't ever get his name right.”

Moira stood up, apparently having had enough of this entire ordeal. “First Sergeant,” she said, turning Killip's attention away from Qrow to her for a moment, “please let me know if you require my assistance for anything. I'll be in the lab.”

 

Killip muttered something in response, before turning back to chew out Qrow for drinking again. Sensing Hannah and Micheal were finding amusement in the conversation between them, Pyrrha offered to make them some popcorn and bring it to them while they watched, an idea both found perfectly acceptable. Pyrrha made a mental note to save them some, returning to Ren, Jaune and Nora for a much-needed celebration.

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm _not_ happy with this,” Blake said, folding her arms.

 

Amari had laid out tea for Echo 1-2, already having adjusted the cups for personal preferences. How she had been able to find out exactly how everyone took their tea remained a mystery to Blake, since she didn't remember ever _talking_ to her about such a thing.

“That's fine,” Ana said as she sipped on her tea. “Don't worry. I won't slow you children down.”

“That's not exactly what I mean, ma'am,” Blake said.

“Alright,” Tyson said. “Let's get it right out there. Yeah, you don't trust me, Belladonna. I don't trust you either. What I do trust, is the ability of every soldier here to do their jobs in the field.”

 

Amari nodded, setting down her tea. “You both have your own issues to work through,” she advised. “But I won't force you to do it here. Nor will I force you to as long as it doesn't affect field work. When it does, then I will force you.”

“This really is wonderful tea, Ana,” Weiss said, trying desperately to avoid this conversation.

“Yes,” Blake added, further aiding the change of direction, “thank you, Captain.”

“Call me Ana, children,” she reminded them, “and I do mean _you_ , Lieutenant.”

“Come on, Amari,” he replied, “you know how I am.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“So,” Ruby asked, “how is this gong to work? I'm still not sure if I understand.”

“Here? Do not worry about it, child,” Amari said, sipping her tea. “All I ask of you ladies is that you show up for missions when called upon. In the field, I'm the highest authority. If I'm not there, then Tyson, and then Yang.”

“Wait, when did I get a promotion?” Yang asked, confused.

Ana smiled and nodded, “Price argued you deserved it, both you and Weiss. Congratulations on making _raqib._ ”

 

Ana and the new members of Echo 1-2 spent three more cups of tea discussing their new roles, going over the expectations Ana had of them (which mostly just boiled down to “respect one another and your leaders”), and what to do in case Ana or Holzmann should find themselves incapacitated or wounded in the field. In all cases, Blake found the answer of passing the buck from one person to the next disagreeable at best, nowhere close to excited to be subordinate to Tyson.

 

But, she had to admit she really had no choice in this matter. The aliens had already been spotted, had already sent a probing force. They were sure to send a larger force at some point, maybe even attempt to occupy a settlement or town. For all they knew, they already had, and word just hadn't reached them at this point. Blake wasn't sure she liked either option.


	8. Ultraviolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another alien probe dictates a response from XCOM.

All was quiet for some time. Too quiet. It made the soldiers of XCOM uneasy. Truthfully, the lack of _anything_ made Yang uneasy too. She volunteered for guard duty as much as possible, hoping that she could see something, anything. But, the horizon remained quiet, with only the occasional wandering Grimm their largest threat. Rumors came and went, most checked out by Misfit, but none of the rumors had any substance to them.

 

It was four days before something came up, another rumored alien sighting. Given Echo 1-2's speed in wasting the last group of aliens that had come by, Bradford made an executive decision to send them out again, holding other squads in reserve just in case this was a ruse to draw out their squads. They had to know, Bradford theorized, that XCOM was present here. The aliens would be foolish not to consider that possibility.

 

The aliens had been sighted just beyond Mistral's borders, lurking in a forest that was entirely too thick for maneuver. The supposed location itself was a mystery to Yang. Why would the aliens decide to go there? Unless they had a new unit purpose-built to make the lack of space a non-issue, but...she really didn't want to think about that.

 

Echo 1-2 remained silent on their way to Mistral's outskirts. Having checked a map of the area, Ana had decided to swap out her signature sniper rifle for a more conventional assault rifle. Tyson kept his machine gun, claiming he preferred the stopping power and rate of fire over having a more maneuverable rifle for such thick vegetation. In order to make sure he had enough ammunition, especially given how many rounds it had taken to fell one alien during the last encounter, he had Ruby and Weiss carry extra belts for him, long 100-round chains that they kept in place thanks to light magnets.

 

The target area was only a scant 200 meters out now. Ana ordered Yang and Blake to screen for them, mirroring Tyson's orders during the last mission. Together, Blake and Yang moved forward, keeping low and as quiet as possible, watching closely for anything out of place. The air was silent, but Yang could taste the metal in the air. That made it clear, there were definitely aliens here.

 

“Do you see anything?” Blake asked quietly, having already prepared her Gambol Shroud for combat.

“Not yet,” Yang answered, pausing to more closely examine the foliage that surrounded them.

The cover here was almost perfect, Yang thought, breaking from thick trees and dense shrubs to an open area. Great spot for an ambush. She didn't recall if the aliens used ambush tactics, but it would heavily surprise her if the aliens had no concept of it.

“I don't like this,” she said quietly to Blake. “Head back, let Ana know what's here.”

“Open field, prime ambush spot,” Blake repeated. “What are you going to do?”

“Make sure I'm wrong,” Yang said. She heard Blake's light footsteps move away from her, leaving her alone far ahead of the rest of her team.

The sounds of the forest didn't help, each strange noise a possible threat she had to assess instantly. Was that branch a natural break due to wind, or did somebody walk on it? Why was that bush moving? Did those leaves rustle because of the wind, or was there an alien aligning their sights on her now?

 

She was quickly joined by Tyson, crouching down next to her and doing everything possible to make himself as small as possible, no short order due to his massive machine gun.

“What's it look like,” he asked. “Possible contact?”

“Maybe,” Yang responded. “If it were, they'd probably use that treeline there.” Yang pointed across the 50-meter wide open area, to a line of trees that offered good cover and ample firing positions.

“Sounds about right,” Tyson muttered. He sighed, looking at the scene in front of him, then shifting over to Ana, where they had a short, quiet conversation.

Silently, Tyson pointed to Ruby and Weiss, then gestured for them to flank right. Yang and Blake were told to hold in the middle, while Ana and Tyson shifted even further left, disseminating that they'd open fire to draw the aliens to them. If they showed themselves, or if anyone saw weapons fire from the treeline, they had orders to destroy any and all cover they thought the aliens were using.

 

Not much happened for a few tense minutes as Tyson and Ana got into position. Yang and Blake kept themselves ready, waiting to see where the enemy was. She could only assume Weiss and Ruby were just off to their right, doing the same thing. Suddenly, a burst from Tyson's machine gun snapped through the air, then another, and two more bursts right after it. As he had predicted, the aliens trained their weapons on the source of the noise, lighting up where they thought he was. This gave RWBY ample opportunity to return the fire, positively destroying two trees outright and removing the denser foliage around it.

 

“There they are!” Tyson shouted, before sending more rounds downrange at them.

Yang immediately recognized a Muton, standing in what remained of his tree cover, grunting as it took its plasma rifle into its hands. The sound of Tyson's machine gun drowned out any further sound as a group of alien troopers were revealed, each one struggling to stand in the face of multiple rounds hitting them. Yang took a deep breath, barely registering the shots coming out from Ana, Blake, Ruby, Weiss casting runes to slow down the aliens, and prepared herself to get involved in this fight. She loaded explosive rounds, cracking a grin. This was going to be _fun._

 

Tyson shouted above the sound of his weapon, “ _Feuer frei!_ ”

Yang wasn't sure what he said, but assumed it was a command to open fire. Like she needed the encouragement, Yang charged forward into the open, dodging alien shots left and right as she popped rounds towards the aliens, throwing them around and blowing limbs off, all the while destroying any remaining cover for them. They didn't seem to care about their rapidly dwindling cover, moving as much as they could to try and get flanking shots on Echo 1-2. The Muton fell with a drawn-out groan, the victim of sustained fire from Yang and Tyson.

 

The sound of Tyson's machine gun fell away, replaced by him announcing he was reloading. Yang fired several more rounds at the aliens, scattering the remaining troopers. Engines could be heard overhead, and soon the alien squad was reinforced by another one, consisting of two alien mechs, both painted red and outfitted with an absurdly large variant of their regular rifle, with four more troopers dropping down with them.

“SHIFT FIRE LEFT!” Tyson screamed, having reloaded his weapon and returning its horrible sound to the air.

“What are these things?!” Blake asked over the weapons fire, taking cover to reload.

“ADVENT mechanized units,” Ana filled in, “they're priority one!”

“I can't get through their armor!” Ruby complained, rapidly firing Crescent Rose, using its scythe to stabilize her shots.

 

As they exchanged information, the ADVENT mechs moved forward, strange beeping coming from their frames, not bothering to take cover, most likely aware they were well-protected from anything XCOM could throw at them. One of them stopped and crouched down, using some sort of tube on its back to launch rockets at Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang. Their Aura protected them from harm, but each of them could feel it had done heavy damage to their Aura.

 

“Fall back!” Ana ordered, screaming above the noise, ceasing her fire and running to cover them as the rest of the squad retreated.

Yang and Blake moved next as Tyson kept firing, covering them, Ruby and Weiss as they too retreated. Tyson screamed for another belt, and Weiss handed him the one she had as she passed by him.

Yang could hear Ana reporting to XCOM headquarters, asking for reinforcements immediately from whoever was available. She overheard that Misfit was on their way, already prepped to head out. They'd arrive in fifteen minutes, maybe less given how hard Killip would push them.

 

“Changing barrel,” Tyson yelled, his weapon falling silent once again. RWBY and Ana covered him as he extracted a smoking hot barrel, placing it in a thermally protected bag on his back, grabbing a new one and slamming it in.

Even pouring every round she had into these things, the mechs didn't even slow down, just continually advancing forward and taking hits like it didn't even matter. Sure, their paint chipped, but it didn't look like any damage was actually being done. Ana by this time had shifted her fire to knock down enemy troopers, ensuring they couldn't use the distraction created by the mechs to flank Echo.

 

“I've got an idea,” Ruby suddenly called out, asking for cover.

Yang wasn't totally sure, but she figured it probably meant trying to slice and dice the aliens. Tyson's machine gun kept pumping out rounds as he took cover behind a fallen tree, using it to stabilize his weapon and keep it on target more effectively. She watched Ruby propel herself forward, swinging Crescent Rose at one of the mechs, hitting it square in the center. Miraculously enough, this actually worked, cutting it down as it continued to beep.

 

Another engine flyby, and more alien ships arrived to drop more ADVENT mechs and troopers, joined by two officers. Killip's signature battle cry came in, almost covering up Tyson's callout for another belt. Yang watched Killip rush past them, heading directly to Ana as other members of Misfit took up firing positions.

 

“What's the sitrep?” Killip asked, shouting over the sound of rifle fire.

“Heavy alien mechs,” Ana replied, “none of our weapons can do anything to them, only Ruby's been able to do something.”

“Ruby!” Qrow shouted, “how'd you knock that thing down?”

“I cut it in half!” she yelled cheerfully, supplying Tyson with his last belt of ammunition.

“Cover me!” Qrow shouted, turning his scythe into a sword and charging forward, quickly joined by Ruby, sensing his goal.

“Fire on those officers!” Tyson ordered, pointing out the two officers who were directing their subordinates.

 

Yang started blasting rounds at the enemy officers, charging ahead to help cover Qrow and Ruby, making sure to target the officers first, watching them and the troopers in front of her fall. Qrow and Ruby too went to work, each taking a side and skillfully slicing the ADVENT mechs apart, felling the four that remained. Calls to cease fire soon came, as Echo and Misfit waited to see if anything else would come their way. Two minutes passed, then five. Nothing.

 

“Alright,” Ana said, “thank you for the assistance, First Sergeant. Can I ask for your help taking these mechs back to base?”

“Sure thing,” Killip responded. “Hannah! Mickey! Get over here and drag these worthless tin cans to HQ!”

“Area secure,” Tyson said, speaking to Bradford and Price through his Scroll. “Encountered heavy enemy resistance, one platoon's worth of enemies. Bringing back enemy mechanized units, alert Chief Engineer, over.”

“That's it, then,” Blake mentioned, walking up next to Yang. “We held them off.”

“They'll be back,” Yang reminded her.

“How many do they have?”

“Entirely too many,” Weiss answered. “They're still just scouting.”

“Scouting for what?” Ruby asked.

 

* * *

 

 

Returning to headquarters was met with questions. The veterans didn't recall seeing mechanized units utilized by ADVENT forces in their invasion of Earth, and Shen was incredibly interested to learn more about them, though she was dismayed that they were so mangled. The debrief was usual, a standard round of questions asking the detailed composition of enemy troops, which only Tyson could deliver for them. Congratulations went around for eliminating another alien unit, but Echo as a whole was unnerved by it.

 

Weiss wondered why the aliens were so insistent on sending only small scouting forces. From what she remembered from the war on Earth, they weren't exactly subtle with their deployments. Why keep themselves limited here? It didn't make sense to her.

 

Until somebody, anybody, could make sense of what was going on, all Weiss, Echo, and the other squads could do was wait. It was agonizing, not know when and where the aliens would return again. On the other hand, though, the recent battle in the woods near Mistral was unavoidably noticed by the people in Mistral, and panic began to spread. Price personally headed to Mistral to speak with the city-state's leaders, assuring them that XCOM was standing by, prepared to resist any and all alien invasions.

 

This led to the creation of several safe zones, Mistral prime among them, where concerned citizens could gather and be immediately under the umbrella of XCOM's protection, just a short ten-minute flight away with the flick of a switch. Chief Engineer Shen had masterfully created a system that sent a signal to XCOM should it ever be activated, alerting them that the area was under duress. So far, they hadn't needed a reason to use it.

 

Weiss also noticed a significant thawing in Tyson and Blake's attitude towards one another. Blake still refused to say she trusted him, but admitted he was an effective leader. In the few conversations Weiss had with him that didn't involve matters related to the squad, Tyson gave credit to Blake for being unafraid to speak her mind, a trait he apparently found admirable in subordinates.

 

What worried Weiss, though, was that not a thing had been heard out of Salem's camp for some time. She figured they would have remained on the run for some time after the battle of Haven, this was simply too long. Repeatedly, she asked for permission for RWBY to investigate why Salem remained silent. Each time, it was denied for unspecified reasons, until after the tenth time it was approved.

 

Price personally handed her the orders, written by the Commander, which instructed RWBY to do what they deemed necessary to understand Salem's intentions, as well as if they were fighting the aliens themselves or ignoring them. Notably, it was _only_ RWBY mentioned in the orders.

“I don't understand, sir,” Weiss asked. “Why just us?”

“Commander wants to keep the rest of Echo on reserve,” he explained. “Reckons you four can handle a scouting mission just fine.”

“I see,” Weiss said.

Reading the orders more carefully before presenting them to the rest of her team, she noted they only had one week to find out what they could. Weiss wasn't sure they'd even need the week.

 

Helpfully, copies had been made for each of them, and Weiss dutifully handed them out. Blake, Ruby and Yang read the orders themselves, each one reacting differently.

“A week, huh?” Blake said, nonplussed.

Ever the optimist, Ruby said, “Plenty of time!”

“What are we waiting for?” Yang asked.

“All we really need is regular travel gear,” Weiss said. “It should be fairly simple.”

The rest of team RWBY agreed, and began to assemble packs to conduct their recon mission. Actually tracking down Salem and those who followed her would be difficult, to be sure, but it would be worth it to find out what, if anything, was developing.


	9. Trust the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aliens launch an attack on a civilian camp, with an unexpected participant involved. Tyson has a confession to make.

Six days had passed since Rose, Belladonna, Xiao Long and Schnee had been sent out by the Commander to conduct recon on a potential unknown element. Judging by what he heard from Qrow, Ozpin, and others, this Salem had been a thorn on their side for some time. On one hand, not having Belladonna around all the time was great, since she didn't have to deal with her suspicious stares all day.

 

But on the other, a part of him missed it. Every day she was gone, he looked up, expecting to see her sitting across the room pretending like she hadn't been carefully watching him like a hawk. It was a quirk of hers he found amusing.

 

Well. Amusing wasn't the right word.

 

He actually found it quite cute. Everything about Belladonna was, for some reason. Tyson didn't understand why. He still didn't trust her – so why the hell was she showing up in his dreams? Why did he miss seeing her around? Watching her tense up each time he walked in the room? Why did he miss her amber eyes, which he'd never noticed before, studying his movements like a hunter stalking its prey? He had to get his mind off such things.

 

In the interim while RWBY was away, Amari and Tyson had been folded into a freelance reserve group, assisting other squads like Killip's or Freeman's when necessary. Other than more alien probing missions, most of which were repelled in short order, not much was really happening. They had only failed to contain one alien probing squad, forcing XCOM's retreat when Freeman was hit by a stray mech rocket, wounding him. Freeman himself had ordered the retreat, demanding his squadmembers carry him back to base.

 

For the time being, Tyson had been assigned to take over leading Delta 1-4 until Freeman could recover from his wounds and was cleared to return to duty. Tyson found himself getting along decently well with Nikos, Valkyrie, Ren and Arc – Nikos rarely questioned his logic and always dutifully followed orders, and as long as he had her trust, the others followed without question. Arc was a first-class supporting soldier, Ren excelled at flanking and infiltration, and Valkyrie's aggressiveness was perfect for disrupting alien shock troops.

 

The day passed lazily away, Tyson alternating between cleaning his weapon and loading belts with new armor-piercing ammunition that Shen claimed would be able to penetrate the alien's armor. On his way back to his room, Tyson heard the safe zone alert system blaring. Heavy footsteps followed behind him.

“Tyson!” Price shouted, stopping just as he got past him. “Is Delta 1-4 ready for combat?”

“Yes sir,” Tyson replied, “we can be wheels up in 5.”

“Make it three,” Price said, “Amari will meet you on the pad!”

“Yes, sir!” Tyson said, sprinting on the way back to his room. On his way there, he saw Ren, Arc, Nikos and Valkyrie emerge from their bunk, confused. “Delta 1-4,” he shouted down the hall to them, “get your weapons and ammo! We got ourselves a mission!”

Instantly, they scrambled back into their room, grabbing weapons, bags, anything they needed as Tyson snatched his MG3, an old East German bag that contained his spare belts, the bag that held his spare barrels, and his softcap, whipping the latter onto his head as he rushed to reach the landing pad.

 

As promised, Amari was already at the pad, waiting for them and urging them into the waiting transport. Once Delta 1-4 had loaded in, heading for a safe zone about a kilometer south of Mistral proper, she got the squad's attention.

“The aliens are attacking the safe zone,” she said, “we need to do everything we can to stop them from wiping it out.”

“Why would they attack the safe zone?” Arc asked, trying to make sense of it.

“Terror mission,” Tyson filled in. “They're trying to divide us, makes it easier to occupy.”

“What's the plan?” Valkyrie asked.

“Kill every alien you can find,” Amari responded flatly. “No mercy.”

 

The trip to the safe zone was necessarily rushed, owing to the desperate nature of reinforcing the beleaguered area. Even from the narrow windows of their transport, Tyson could see burning buildings against the backdrop of the night. The aliens had already gone to work. Nikos too was quickly warning her friends that they may not be fully prepared to see what they were about to, but reiterated they still had a job to do.

 

The transport touched down and the squad disembarked, Tyson and Ren taking point as Amari and Nikos took to higher ground. Valkyrie and Arc were close by as the four advanced closer to the screams of slaughtered civilians.

“They're already killing them,” Amari said, hatred filling her voice. “Get forward! We have no time to waste.”

Next to him, Tyson heard Ren breathe in and out slowly and deliberately. Valkyrie joined him, both keeping their eyes peeled. Tyson gestured for them to start moving faster, heading ever closer to the sound of weapons fire.

 

Alien voices soon replaced the sounds of gunfire. Tyson recognized the voices he heard as belonging to Vipers, sectoids, maybe a couple Mutons. It wouldn't surprise him at this point if they had stun lancers added into the fray, just for good measure.

“Captain,” Tyson asked, speaking quietly to avoid being detected. “How's it look?”

“At least two platoons,” Amari reported, “maybe more we can't see. Pyrrha and I can cover you children, get to work.”

“Going all out, huh?” Tyson said. “Alright then. Valkyrie, prep your grenade launcher. Blast those overgrown snakes on my mark.”

“With pleasure,” Valkyrie said, already way ahead of him.

 

Tyson watched a group of four Vipers group up near a pile of bodies, on patrol for something. Once he had deemed them close enough together, he signaled for Valkyrie to pop off a round, and she happily obliged by sending four at them, sending each one flying, clearly dead. This had the effect of attracting the attention of nearby Sectoids and Mutons, who took turns screeching at them and moving to cover. Sniper fire from Amari and Nikos mixed with rounds from Tyson's weapon, punctuated every so often by a burst from Ren.

 

The sectoids were easy enough for Tyson to deal with, but the Mutons and reinforcing troopers still required copious amounts of bullets to even hurt, heating his barrel to dangerous levels and consuming ammunition faster than he could readily be supplied. Thankfully, he was aided in knocking down the aliens by Nikos and Amari, both of whom were expert snipers and able to easily land shots on the unprotected Muton heads.

 

Tyson moved up after shooting down the last alien trooper, changing his smoking hot barrel for a new one and taking up a position near a fallen pillar. Amari and Nikos likewise were moving to a better position, as Ren, Arc and Valkyrie scouted to see if they could find the few remaining alien troops. By his count, there should be two squads left. Screams still emanated from somewhere in the distance, pointing them to a possible location.

 

The alien patrols seemed to have found them, an officer flanked by several troopers shouting in their alien language advancing upon them. They were additionally joined by what was clearly not an alien, a man clad in black clothing, a sword in his hand, and wearing a strange white mask.

“What's he doing here?!” Valkyrie asked.

“Who the hell is he?” Tyson demanded, firing a suppressive burst.

Ren dived into cover next to Tyson, explaining, “Adam Taurus. Leader of the White Fang, or what's left of it. Terrorists.”

“Amari,” Tyson said, taking cover to make sure he could actually talk to Amari uninterrupted, “got a possible enemy VIP here. Orders?”

“Already spotted,” she replied, “Bradford wants us to take him in alive.”

Tyson glanced back at Taurus, not even reacting to the hail of bullets around him.

“You _sure_ about that?”

“Very,” Amari said.

 

Well, that settled it. The looked like the remains of the last squad anyway, and since he was getting near to using his last belt, he opted to use it to suppress the officer, keeping him still long enough for Nikos to score a headshot on him. Without much other direction, the troopers wildly moved about, trying to decide whether to keep in cover or try to cross open ground to throw grenades at them. Adam tried to keep them in line, attempting to point Tyson out for them to shoot, but the language barrier made it impossible for him to direct the alien troops.

 

One by one, Ren, Valkyrie, Arc, and Nikos knocked down the remaining alien troopers, until just Adam was left. He stood alone, tall in the middle of an open plaza, almost as if he was challenging them to fight him.

“You're done, punk,” Tyson said, having finished loading his last belt in. “Surrender.”

“The Grimm will find this place,” Adam shouted. “We've succeeded here!”

“I ain't got time for this,” Tyson muttered. “One of you go cuff him up.”

“He's dangerous,” Ren cautioned. “We should disarm him.”

“ _Then disarm him_ ,” Tyson ordered, “we need him alive.”

 

Shrugging, Ren and Valkyrie headed over to Adam. They had a short conversation with him, what it was about Tyson couldn't hear or care. All he wanted was this jackass in custody. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adam smile. That couldn't have been good. He willingly gave Ren his sword, and allowed himself to be placed in handcuffs as Amari called for their transport. Nikos and Arc were asked to stay behind, to defend the safe zone if Grimm arrived like Adam predicted. The rest of them would have to transport Adam back to HQ.

 

“It won't be long, then,” Adam said as he was walked onto the waiting ship.

“Long until _what?_ ” Tyson asked, suspicious.

“Until I'm reunited with her. Blake. I heard you have her in your little headquarters.”

Instantly, Tyson looked to Ren, Valkyrie and Amari. Each had the same shocked expression he did. How the hell did he know Blake was with them?

 

* * *

 

 

This clown had done nothing but talk about how much he “loved” Blake ever since he realized who he was in the company of. Ren and Valkyrie both were surprised to learn Adam even _knew_ Blake, much less was in love with her. Amari didn't seem to have a care, already recommending to Price that they set up the interrogation room to put him into. Tyson kept his MG3 aimed in his general direction, pulling guard duty. He really wished this wasn't one of those VIPs that Bradford had insisted they keep alive. Adam would have been better off being left to die on the ground with the other aliens.

 

His scroll buzzed. Tyson tasked Valkyrie and Ren with guarding Adam while he checked it. It was Blake, _shit_. That wasn't good. Sighing, he excused himself for a moment to answer it, heading to an isolated corner of the cargo hold.

“Yeah?” he said, preempting anything from Blake.

“Tyson,” she said, “are you on your way back?”

“About 30 mikes out, I'd reckon.”

“Thirty _what?_ ” she asked. Right. He kept forgetting she didn't know his military lingo.

“Minutes,” he explained.

“Oh,” Blake said. “I heard the aliens assaulted a safe zone. How many did we get out?”

“Enough,” Tyson responded. “Aliens got, maybe...a hundred? I'm not sure.”

“We should have been quicker,” she said. He could hear the sadness and anger in her voice.

“Well, happens sometimes.”

“It shouldn't.”

“I know,” he said. “You guys almost back too?”

“We're already back,” Blake explained. “We must have gotten here not long after you left.”

 

Perhaps against his better judgment, he glanced back at Adam. He looked like he was still going on about “his love” and how he'd be “reunited” with Blake soon. Almost immediately, the memories of seeing her break into his room on the ship flooded back to him. He didn't like what this Adam was saying.

 

“Hey, Belladonna,” he said after a while. “Two things.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“One, I need you to meet us when we land.”

“Uh,” she paused. “Why?”

“Because of number two, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said warily. “Again, why?”

“It's nothing bad,” he said, trying to reassure her. “I just need to talk to you.”

“Alright, I guess,” she said, exasperated. “Do you want to talk on the landing zone, or?”

“Alone,” he said, hanging up. All he needed was that confirmation.

 

That done, he headed back to guard Adam, relieving Ren and Valkyrie for the moment. Amari slid next to him, aiming a pistol at Adam.

“Who was that?” she asked, in Russian. Tyson didn't know Amari spoke Russian.

“Nobody important,” he replied in Russian, hoping to avoid a conversation.

“Must have been _somebody_ for you to leave your post,” she replied.

Dammit. How did she always do this? Amari was always able to get info out of people, even when they didn't want to tell her. Tyson sighed and looked around, making sure nobody was looking.

“It was Belladonna,” he said, keeping his voice low. Amari nodded, sliding away just as swiftly as she had come.

 

How the hell was she able to _do_ that?

 

* * *

 

 

Killip and Hannah had arrived almost immediately to take Adam into custody as they arrived, moving him into their interrogation room for Amari and Bradford to talk to later. Like she had promised, Blake was right there when they touched down, and saw Adam go right past her. The entire time, he kept shouting how he had finally found her again, and would break free of “their prisons” to be with her once more.

 

For his part, Tyson went to take off his heavier field gear. No need for it back at base. He opened his locker, setting his MG3 to the side and taking off his field jacket. Angry, quick footsteps confirmed Blake was on her way.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Some terrorist, I think,” Tyson answered.

“Hilarious,” Blake said. “Don't play dumb, Tyson.”

“Look, can we not do this here?” he asked, hanging up his field jacket.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said sarcastically, “are you not _comfortable?”_

“How's about we meet up at the bar?”

“The bar's full of people,” she countered.

“Fine,” Tyson said. “Then somewhere where people can't eavesdrop, alright?”

“ _That's_ what you're worried about,” Blake asked, _“eavesdropping?”_

 

Tyson sighed, leaning an arm against the locker. He turned his head to actually look at Blake, noting she was _definitely_ pissed off.

“Listen, let me get some water and we can talk, alright? Just...find somewhere quiet and text me when you're there, okay?”

Blake groaned, reminding him that _he_ had been the one asking to talk to her, throwing her arms up in frustration and walking away. Tyson ignored her and continued to put away his things, securely locking them tight. After swinging by the bar to grab a bottle of water, he soon got a text from Blake telling him to meet her in the kitchen. Moment of truth. She was either a spy for Adam, or she was entirely innocent. Her reaction would dictate how the rest of this talk would go.

 

He walked in to find a still very much angry Blake standing in the middle of the prep area, her arms folded and frowning. Tyson took a corner, unscrewing the top of his water bottle.

“Before you say anything,” she started, “I want to know why Adam's here.”

“Alright,” he said between drinks. “Adam's the reason we're here.”

“That's _not_ an answer.”

“We found Adam at the safe zone,” Tyson explained, “helping the aliens lead their assault. We got orders to bring him in alive. Keep in mind I disagree with those orders.”

“Why the hell was he paraded past me, then?” Blake demanded. “Why did you ask me to wait for you to land?”

“Amari thinks we can use his love for you as leverage,” Tyson said.

“Well gee,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Thanks for that.”

“Look, I'm not thrilled about it either, alright?”

Blake looked at him, confused. Her eyes narrowed and she shrugged her shoulders, trying to find reason in his words. “What are you talking about?”

“Listen, Blake,” he said, “I ain't never been one to dance around things even _before_ the aliens came.”

“When you start making sense, I'm listening.”

“Then I'll come out and say it. I'm attracted to you, Blake.”

 

One could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Blake stared at him for a long while, trying to figure out if this was a joke or if he was really serious. Her face twisted between confusion, anger, and outright shock, struggling to make sense of what she just heard.

“Was that your plan this whole time,” she eventually said, “to lure me in here and do...whatever the hell this is?”

“No,” Tyson said, shaking his head. “Hell, to tell you the truth, I wasn't even thinking of telling you until two minutes ago.”

“What the hell?!” Blake shouted. “Is this a prank? You're kidding, right, like, you don't _actually_ mean that, right?”

“I'm not telling you this because I'm trying to pull some sick joke, Blake,” he said.

Suddenly, it hit her like a pile of bricks.

“ _You're_ using my first name,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Ayup,” he said, taking another swig of water.

She buried her face in her hands, probably wanting to scream but couldn't. When she pulled her hands away, he saw the same anger still raging in her face.

“What the hell was all this with Adam then,” she demanded. “I don't understand.”

“I heard him on the way back,” Tyson explained. “He was going on and on about how he loved you. I figured it was probably running both ways.”

“I _don't_ love him anymore,” Blake said, ice-cold.

“Then I guess it doesn't matter,” Tyson shrugged.

“That's not an invitation for you to swoop in like a knight in shining armor!” Blake yelled.

“Will you let me finish before you go jumping to conclusions?” Tyson asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

 

Blake sighed deeply, shaking her head. Silence reigned for several minutes before she slowly nodded, allowing him to elaborate.

“However you stand with Adam – love him, don't love him, I don't care – I wanted you to know because I hoped for once in my fucking life something was going right. I didn't expect anything from this, and I sure as hell got it. Do what you want with that info.”

Tyson began heading out, but Blake stepped in his way, stopping him from walking out the door.

“You're _not_ walking away from this,” she growled. “You don't get to do something like that and just expect to walk away.”

“No,” Tyson said. “I'm walking away because I need to go report to Price. Unless, of course, _you_ want to tell him why I'm late for debrief?”

Blake stared him down, almost as if she was daring him to test her, before stepping away and folding her arms, still pissed. Tyson took two steps out the door, before turning back to look at Blake.

“One more thing,” he said, causing her to turn her head. “If you don't feel the same way, _fine._ I can bury these feelings. I've done it before. Just tell me.”

Blake said nothing, narrowing her eyes even further. Tyson shrugged. Clearly she wasn't interested in talking anymore.

“See you around, Belladonna,” he said, walking away.


	10. Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake wrestles with the implications of Tyson's confession, and embarks on a fact-finding mission.

God damn him.

 

God damn him, and everything he stood for.

 

Blake stood in the kitchen, shaking. Why had Tyson decided to do this to her? Why force Adam past her, and then confess these stupid fucking emotions like they weren't in the middle of a war? Why would he ever think these things about her?

 

Why the fuck couldn't she decide what the hell she was feeling right now?

 

She paced around the kitchen, holding her head in frustration. This didn't make sense. None of it did. It had to be a prank, she reasoned, he was fucking with her, some kind of deranged test. It wouldn't be out of character for him. Anything was possible. But none of the answers she was coming up with satisfied her, they just made her angrier and angrier.

 

She heard the door open again, and looked up expecting Tyson, standing there smugly and about to say “gotcha”. But no, it was Yang. She smiled at first, then frowned. She knew something was hurting Blake.

“What's wrong?” Yang asked, stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I...I don't fucking know,” Blake said.

“Is it because of Adam?”

“Close.”

“Well, I'm out then,” Yang said. “Gimme a hint?”

“He wears a stupid hat,” Blake groaned, still visibly shaking.

 

Yang's eyes darted back and forth, trying to remember the hats people wore, until she finally caught on.

“Alright, what'd Tyson do this time?”

Blake turned to face Yang, taking deep breaths as if that would help shake her nerves.

“He told me he has feelings for me,” Blake confessed.

Yang stared back, in shock. Blake couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

“That's….a joke, right?”

“I really don't know, Yang.”

Yang swallowed, unsure where to look anymore, asking, “Well...what do you feel?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

Yang sighed. “Alright, well, come on,” she said, “let's go to our room, alright?”

 

Blake nodded slowly, allowing herself to be led back to their dorm. Thankfully, Ruby and Weiss weren't there, not that she wanted them to be. She wasn't in the mood to talk to much of anyone, much less Ruby's eternal optimism. Blake also had no capacity right now for Weiss's judgment. All that really left her with was Yang, the only person who really understood her and her neuroses.

 

Still shaking, Blake sat down on one of their beds, whose it was didn't matter, trying to calm herself. Why was she even shaking anyway? Yang handed her a glass of water, which she meekly sipped on. It wasn't helping in the least. The blonde sat down next to her, silently, waiting for Blake to say something, anything, to initiate whatever process she was going through right now. The water slowly disappeared, sipped bit by bit. Through the endless war going on in Blake's mind, Yang sat by her side, waiting for an opportunity to help.

 

“I don't understand it,” Blake finally said. “I just want to punch him.”

“Yeah, me too,” Yang admitted. “But, really though. Tell me what you're going through.”

“I don't know. I keep thinking it's a prank or something.”

Yang shrugged, leaning back. “Well, what's the worst if it is?”

Blake's eyes narrowed, shooting Yang an ugly look. “I look like an idiot, Yang. I'm buying it hook, line and sinker.”

“OK, think about this then,” Yang said. “What's the worst thing that can happen if he's not joking around?”

“I don't know if I want to say it.”

Yang shrugged again. “I think you already know what you're thinking. When do you want to admit it?”

“I'm not admitting _anything,_ ” Blake said. “I don't even know anything about him. I can't have a relationship with someone if-” Suddenly realizing what she was saying, Blake stopped, her mouth agape.

Yang's grin was almost _too_ smug, setting herself back forward. “Go find out then, girl. If you need to knock some heads around, you know where to find me.”

 

Yang left, leaving Blake alone with her thoughts. Blake's shaking had subsided, replaced by a strange calm. She sat in her room a long time, disconnected from the outside world, unaware of anything other than this small room. She sighed heavily, getting off the bed and steeling herself for...something. Blake needed information, primarily, but it would be impossible to keep her searches private.

 

There was one easy way to get some information where people wouldn't ask questions. Qrow had been assigned a room with Killip, Micheal, and one of Price's squadmembers, a Corporal Wu. Qrow usually spent all day in that room, only emerging when he needed to. Blake knocked on the door, hearing Qrow stir, swearing quietly. He slid the entrance open, subdued surprise on his face.

 

“Hey Blake,” Qrow said. “What's up?”

“Do you still have that dossier Bradford gave you on Holzmann?”

“The whackjob? Yeah.” Qrow waved her in, rummaging through a pile of papers that had been collected for some reason, handing her a manila folder that contained Tyson's dossier.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” Blake asked.

“Go for it,” Qrow replied, taking a drink. “I don't need it anymore.”

Blake nodded, heading out, but before she could step through the door, Qrow put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“One thing, though,” he said. “I saw you two heading off after he got back. What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Blake said, trying to maintain her facade. “I just wanted to check it over again.”

 

Qrow didn't look like he really believed that answer, but let her go anyway. She could tell that Qrow thought there was more to that meeting, but for whatever reason he didn't decide to press it. No matter. She had what she needed now, a place to work from, a starting point to find out more about Tyson.

 

Heading back to her room, Blake read through the contents of the dossier. There admittedly wasn't much – Bradford had written down that Holzmann was an excellent soldier, something called a US Army Ranger. She made a mental note of this, had to find out from someone what it was later. Further notes from Bradford indicated he was an expert in handling not only his signature machine gun but also assault rifles and pistols. Further notes detailed proficiency in small unit tactics and demolitions, among other terms that didn't mean anything to Blake.

 

No personal detail could be found in Bradford's notes, other than a general description of his appearance and attitude, both Blake already knew about. So far, this wasn't helping. She had to go elsewhere for answers, but at least it was something to go on. Ana would probably be able to keep things quiet, and thus Blake sought out the old officer.

 

As usual, Blake found her sipping on a cup of tea in the break room, empty. The others must have been at the bar or guarding the base, Blake reasoned.

“ʻ _Amil 'ayh?_ ” Ana asked, raising a cup towards Blake as she entered.

“Good evening, Captain,” Blake said, taking a seat opposite of her, accepting a cup of tea already slid towards her.

“Mmm, you only say my rank if you have an issue. What is it, child?”

“I need to know more about Holzmann.”

Ana nodded, setting her teacup down. “Well, I don't know much about him, but I can do my best to help you. What would you like to know?”

“I don't know,” Blake admitted. “It's hard to find out who he is.”

“He's a secretive man,” Ana explained. “I don't think I've had a truly personal conversation with him in years.”

“What did you talk about, last time you did?”

Ana shrugged, saying, “My memory's not as it used to be. I remember he talked about somebody named Lee a lot. Tyson sounded like he missed them.”

“Does he still talk about this Lee? Who are they?”

“I don't know, child,” Ana said. “Man, woman, it's up in the air. Anything else?”

 

Blake mulled over this information. A mysterious person named Lee. Potential girlfriend? Wife? Brother? Old friend? Whoever they were, they had to be dead by now. Nobody named Lee had made it to Remnant, nobody she could remember at least.

“Did he ever talk about anything else?”

Ana took a breath, looking off to the right to remember, before saying, “Only that he would make the aliens pay for what they did. I don't know if he meant invading Earth or the genocide.”

 

This was probably all she would ever get out of Amari. Blake thanked her for the tea, finishing it and heading out. Who else could be trusted to keep quiet? Price probably could, but he was also close to Tyson. Killip was out of the question, as was Freeman. She didn't trust Moira to even leave her alone. That really only left Hannah and Micheal who would know something.

 

Blake found Hannah and Micheal in the common area, both unwinding, perhaps having pulled guard duty. Like with Amari, the scene was quiet save for them. Blake trusted them both to keep this under wraps, and so didn't see a need to ask them to talk somewhere more privately, especially with others on some sort of duty. Without much in the way of words, she sat down opposite of them, drawing curious looks.

 

“Uh,” Micheal asked, “you mind? We kinda got ourselves a private conversation 'ere.”

“Hold on, Mike,” Hannah said, raising a hand, “it's alright. You're Blake, right? Pyrrha's friend?”

“Yeah,” Blake said, stoic. “Can you two keep this quiet for me?”

“Keep _what_ quiet?” Micheal asked, narrowing his eyes. “Cause we been _hella_ quiet-”

“Mike, let's hear her out.”

“I need to know about Holzmann. What do you two know?”

 

Both of them were clearly surprised, exchanging confused looks. Micheal shrugged, and Hannah shook her head before they both turned to look back at Blake, intensely curious.

“How's about,” Micheal said, “you staht by telling us what you wanna know?”

“All I know is he's a Ranger, knows his weapons, and used to talk about somebody named Lee,” Blake said, filling them in. “Can you two help me out?”

“Well,” Hannah said, “I dunno, I didn't talk to him too much. What about you, Mike?”

“Yeah, I talked to him,” he answered. “He was always remindin' you he was a Ranger, like dat even mattahs when the fuckin' Army got wiped out.”

“I mean anything else,” Blake reminded them, annoyed.

“Hell, I dunno. He always got real pissed whenevah we had missions in Georgia. The, uh, state, not da country.”

“I thought he said something about family there, once,” Hannah chimed in.

“Did he?” Micheal asked, unsure of himself. “I don't remember dat.”

“What's special about Georgia?” Blake asked, ignoring Micheal's blabbering.

“I think he lived there,” Hannah said. “He at least trained there when he was in the US Army.”

“Reckon his hometown got the ADVENT special treatment?” Micheal asked. Hannah could only shrug in response.

“What's the 'ADVENT special treatment'?”

“Could be anything,” Hannah said, “Burned down, purged, rebuilt into something else, forcibly evacuated...lot of cities were destroyed.”

 

Blake thanked the two for their time, leaving them to finish their earlier conversation. So far, this fact-finding mission was a failure. She hadn't found out anything other than a few scattered tidbits, and even those were unconfirmed, the shaky memories of people who had more pressing matters on their minds than whatever someone who was likely to end up dead the next day said in passing.

 

She ran through her options again. Killip, Freeman, and Moira were still out. She didn't trust Price to keep it quiet. The members of Bravo were likely to inform Price. Pyrrha probably didn't interact with him enough to provide her with anything new. Blake opted to wait, keeping this information in her head. The aliens weren't likely to try anything, she had overheard Bradford say, and that gave her some time to reflect on what she had learned.

 

* * *

 

Blake and Tyson didn't speak to each other for another week. He avoided her in the halls, and often just went somewhere else if he walked into a room where she was. They only time they did talk to each other was in the field, and even then only briefly, calling out enemies and relaying info. Tyson didn't mind it – he was perfectly fine finding somewhere to sleep if she happened to be somewhere. Tyson got a knock on his door as he was cleaning his MG3 one afternoon. Wasn't Freeman or O'Deorain, they'd just walk in. Hannah only knocked once then entered in case someone was changing.

“Door's open,” he announced, hearing the door open and then close.

“Hey,” Blake said, drawing his attention away for a few moments.

“'Sup?” he asked, returning to cleaning his weapon. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Blake sit down on Hannah's bunk.

“I've been thinking,” she said, somewhere between apprehensive and nervous. “I need to know more about you before I make any decisions.”

“Alright,” Tyson muttered.

“So I've been asking around,” Blake mentioned. “Nobody knows anything about you.”

“Sounds about right,” he said, reassembling the bolt and bolt carrier.

“All anyone can agree on is that you're a US Army Ranger, whatever that is.”

“ _That_ ,” he said, irritated, “is the best damn outfit I ever served with. Show some goddamn respect.”

“Calm down,” she said. “I didn't know, alright?”

“Calm down?” Tyson repeated. “You really gonna say that to me? That some kind of a joke, Belladonna?”

“I just want to know who you are,” she said, frowning.

 

Tyson shrugged, placing the receiver cover back in place, lightly pounding it shut.

“I don't know what you wanna know, Belladonna,” he said. “Give me something.”

“Oh my God,” she said, exasperated. “How hard is it to just tell me something about yourself?”

Tyson sighed, placing his MG3 to the side and leaning it against his bunk, then resting his arms on his knees and looking at Blake.

“I've been fighting for a long, _long_ decade, Belladonna,” he said. “I don't remember how to function as a civilian anymore. I can tell you all about Lee here,” he gestured to his weapon, “but I don't know what to tell you about me.”

“You named your weapon Lee?”

“Yeah, that a problem?”

“N-no,” she stammered. “I just remembered Amari told me something about someone you knew named Lee that you talked about a lot. Were you talking about a gun this whole time?”

Tyson stared at her, dumbfounded, then chuckled, shaking his head. It'd been a long time since he had actually laughed at something. It felt good, even if it did spook Blake a bit.

“No,” he said, “I haven't been talking about a weapon this entire time. I'm not telling you about that.”

“Why not?” she asked. “It seems pretty mundane to me.”

“Because you're telling me you haven't made any decision yet, and now you want your own little abridged history? I can't guarantee anything I say won't make it back to somebody else I don't want to hear about my life.”

“Do you seriously think I'd do that?”

“I dunno,” Tyson shrugged again. “Point is, I ain't telling you something compromising. What you see is what you get, Belladonna.”

 

Blake sighed, clearly not exactly thrilled with this answer. It probably wasn't anywhere close to what she was looking for. Whether it helped her make a decision or not, Tyson didn't know. He didn't really _care_ at this point either. He figured if she had spent a week before deciding she needed to know more, she had already made up her mind and was deluding herself otherwise.

“Fine then,” Blake finally said after a while. “If you don't want to tell me anything, then I guess that's that.” She stood up, glaring at him as she walked away.

 

_Good job, Tyson,_ he thought to himself, _Way to fuck up again._


	11. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aliens raid the headquarters at night.

Blake was less angry with Tyson, and more just outright annoyed. She _thought_ he'd want to convince her to go with him, but all he did was push her away like she was nothing. It pissed her off, truthfully, because dammit, letting him into her life like this was the nicest fucking thing she could do, and he tossed it away like a wet paper towel. He didn't care about anybody but himself, Blake concluded. That was the only reason he really had to tell her what he did, and then pretend nothing had ever happened, to go back to being the same massive dick he had been before. Fine, if he didn't want to be with her, that was his problem, not Blake's.

 

“Hey,” Yang said, walking into their dorm to get something out of her bag. “How'd it go?”

Blake scoffed. “He couldn't tell me anything, Yang.”

“What?” she asked, confused. “Did he forget who he was, or something?”

“No, he gave some bullshit excuse about not knowing how to talk about himself. Can you believe that?”

“Well...” Yang said, shrugging. “Kinda? I mean, how long's he been fighting again?”

“He said a decade.”

“Yeah, I dunno about you, Blake, but I feel weird talking to somebody who lives in a place like Mistral or Atlas. Nobody knows what it's like to make your entire life about fighting.”

“That's all _anyone_ here does, Yang. We've always fought the Grimm.”

“Well, yeah, but still. It's a special class of people that does it for a _living._ You know that.”

 

Blake sighed. Was she really trying to connect whatever stupid things Tyson did with being a Huntress? It never sounded any more difficult than what they did here. It didn't even sound that _hard_ for him.

“Look, I appreciate it Yang, but-”

“But nothing,” Yang said. “You're talking about a dude who's only here because aliens forced him off his home planet. Take that and ten years of fighting? I'm actually kind of _amazed_ he can keep up a normal conversation.”

“Dammit, Yang,” Blake said, pissed, “he's such an obstinate jerk I don't even _want_ to be with him, if I ever did in the first place! He can't say anything unless it's about his fucking gun!”

Calming down, she laid down on her bed, shaking her head.

“Maybe it's just better for everyone if I just kept to myself.”

“Whoa, Blake, let's take a step back here,” Yang said, sitting down next to her. “Think about the people he's hung around with all this time.”

“Yang, can you just...leave me alone, please? I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

 

Yang looked concerned, but just sighed and nodded, getting up and leaving the room. Blake let out a deep breath, staring at the wall. Maybe sleep would help her get this shitty situation off her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Blake woke up to alarms. It was still dark out, and she could see her teammates getting out of bed, a groggy mess of four confused people stumbling in the dark trying to figure out what was going on. Blake rubbed her eyes, heading for the door and opening it, almost blinding herself on the harsh hall lights.

 

“ _Macht schnell!”_ Tyson screamed, urging people past him.

He turned to see Blake, and headed to their room, his machine gun in hand and clearly having thrown on his combat gear in a hurry, only wearing his combat pants and a pair of boots. Ammo belts hung off his chest, and he apparently didn't even have time to put on his signature softcap.

“Get the fuck out of bed,” he said, practically kicking their door open, “and get to the hangar, the aliens found our base and they're raiding us!”

Not even waiting for an answer, he headed off, shouting more commands at anyone he passed by. Without anyone to provide more info, RWBY quickly set about grabbing weapons and anything that'd help them in a fight, hurrying to rush out the door. No time to change clothes.

 

RWBY rushed to the hangar as ordered, seeing alien weapons fire already pocking the walls around and behind them. Confused orders echoed across the open area, and spotlights had been lit up illuminating the alien approach. Tyson had opted to set up his machine gun in a tripod, tossing spare belts to the side for him to pick up as necessary. Already a smoking hot barrel was on his right, informing them as to how much ammo he had spent shooting at the aliens.

 

On the right, Blake saw Killip in full gear, apparently having waited for such a moment. He was directing Misfit, all of whom were in various states of dress with only Hannah actually in a somewhat combat-ready state like he was. Price too was giving out orders to his squad, directing machine gun fire to coordinate with what Tyson was doing. JNPR and Freeman were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they were somewhere else, potentially guarding Adam.

 

“What's going on?” Blake asked as she slid into cover next to Ana.

“Aliens found us,” Ana replied, reloading her rifle, “numbers and intent unknown.”

“What do you want us to do?” Ruby asked.

“Kill them all.” Ana ordered, rocking in a new magazine and racking the charging handle. “We can't let them do too much damage to our base.”

 

Nodding to one another, RWBY quickly set about executing a standard plan of divide and conquer. The aliens must have thrown a massive amount of forces, judging by the dropships that continued to flood reinforcements to the beleaguered headquarters. Dozens of alien corpses were already on the ground in front of them, no doubt the victims of sniper, machine gun, and rifle fire. Qrow was already out in the field, cutting apart aliens with the help of suppressing fire.

 

From the back, Blake could hear Tyson shouting again, a phrase she didn't understand. Somebody else responded in a similar fashion, but Blake couldn't find the time to decipher what they were saying to each other. Alien squads were rapidly advancing upon the line, and it was up to her, Qrow, and her team to stop them from getting too close. She saw in front of her four Mutons, all ready to kill. They roared over the noise of rifle fire, an intimidating act to those with weaker wills.

 

Ruby kept the aliens from moving too far forward with shots from Crescent Rose while Blake and Yang charged up between them, making quick work of the Mutons and their assorted troopers providing escort. Weiss's glyphs kept mechs in place, preventing them from using their rockets against the massed XCOM defenders. She was acutely aware of Qrow off to her right, hacking apart alien mechs without an issue.

 

Sniper fire rained over her shoulder, and on instinct she glared back to see who got so dangerously close to hitting her. Price lowered his scope, adjusting for something before shouting out more orders she couldn't hear. Groans and screams of dying Mutons and alien troopers replaced the sound of gunfire in Blake's ears as she poured out rounds on advancing enemies, making sure that each enemy she focused on wasn't getting up again.

 

Soon, terrible stomping replaced the general sounds of dying aliens. A strange being crashed into the scene, a rifle in its hand. Its awkward gait struck Blake as strange. Did it have trouble moving?

“What da fuck is dat?!” Micheal shouted.

“BIG ALIEN ROBOT!” Killip screamed, but he must have overestimated the actual size of it – it wasn't any larger than Qrow.

“Focus fire on that fucker!” Tyson ordered, already proceeding to light it up.

The alien shrugged the hits off, barely registering them until a large yellow glass-like structure it had on top cracked, and then shattered entirely. Some strange green liquid began pouring out as a small but still loud popping sound accompanied it, revealing a shriveled alien clutching controls. It didn't move, was it dead?

 

Just as quickly, the strange being began moving again. It no longer attempted to aim its rifle, instead charging straight for the defenders.

“Didn't we just kill that thing?!” Price asked.

“I'm on it!” Qrow called out, rushing over to assist.

On his way, he stepped in the fluid the alien was leaking, causing him to fall over in pain. Even from where she was, Blake could hear a sizzling noise. Qrow howled in pain, clutching the foot that had stepped in the fluid. What was going on with him?

 

The alien kept running, heading right for Ruby. Unfortunately, this was right when most of the defending line was in the middle of reloading, and the few people who were firing couldn't possibly shoot through the alien's armor to even attempt to slow it down. Ruby prepared to swing, and though she was fast, the alien was faster, delivering a crushing hit to Ruby's torso, sending her flying into the building.

 

“Fuck!” Tyson shouted. “Rose!”

Tyson dropped the barrel he had just taken out of his machine gun, the metal clanging against the concrete as he rushed over to the small crater that Ruby had left in the building wall. Blake could just barely see Tyson helping Ruby stand, making sure she was okay for the moment. She couldn't hear what they were saying to one another, but it didn't matter now – she had more important things to worry about.

 

Combat raged for hours until dawn broke, at which point the aliens had apparently decided they had enough, and pulled out as the sun began to rise in the sky. Blake looked around her, seeing countless alien bodies, mech wrecks, and dismembered alien body parts scattered across a once pristine field. Small grenade holes also wrecked the scene, marks from either tossed or launched grenades used to break up alien formations.

 

Blake was immediately overcome with an extreme sense of exhaustion, turning and heading back to the base intent on getting some sleep. Back at where they had made their stand, Blake saw people collecting brass, recoiling when they accidentally touched one that was too hot. Right behind her, Tyson walked past, helping a limping Qrow head into the base.

 

“Belladonna,” Tyson said, “grab his other arm, help me get him to Tygan.”

Blake did so, taking Qrow over her shoulders and letting him relax slightly.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Whatever that alien leaked out's corrosive as hell,” Tyson informed. “How you doing, Qrow?”

“Not the worst I've ever been.”

 

Wordlessly, they guided Qrow closer towards Tygan's office. Blake acutely became aware of the smell of burnt rubber and flesh, most likely the results of whatever fluid the aforementioned alien was leaking. Along the way, Freeman headed towards them, dust caking him from head to toe, and what looked like blood on his armor.

 

“What happened to you?” Tyson asked.

“Fucking aliens weren't here to raid us,” he said, “they were doing a goddamn jailbreak!”

“What?!” Blake asked, nearly dropping Qrow.

“Yeah, that fucking psycho got out, left with the aliens,” Freeman said, gesturing vaguely towards the holding cells.

“Goddammit,” Tyson said, shifting his weight. “Belladonna, get Price over here, I'm taking Qrow to the doc.”

“Price!” Blake shouted, getting the superior officer's attention.

Immediately, Price dropped what he was doing, jogging over.

“Freeman,” he said, “you look like hell. What happened?”

“Aliens fucking broke our prisoner out,” he explained. “Two wounded on my end.”

“Who got hit?” Blake asked.

“The fuckin' cosplayer and the crazy chick.”

“Jaune and Nora?” Blake said, fists forming.

 

Blake wasn't sure what else was said between Freeman and Price, since she was already on her way over to the infirmary. She could see Ren and Pyrrha sitting on a bench outside, both worried. Blake headed over to them, frowning. She could tell by the looks on their faces it was bad.

 

“So I guess you heard Adam broke free,” Ren said, staring at the floor.

“We did everything we could, Blake-” Pyrrha began to say, before she was cut off by Blake.

“Don't worry about it,” she responded. “I just...how are you guys? Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“That would be appreciated,” Ren said quietly.

Pyrrha slid over, and Blake sat in between the two of them, doing whatever she could to make them feel better for at least a little while. Tyson came out, briefly acknowledged Blake, Ren and Pyrrha, and then headed out, no doubt to help clean up the debris from the battle and try to patch whatever holes existed in their walls.

 

Hours must have passed. Ruby, Yang and Weiss eventually gathered with them too, waiting for an update as to their friends and family's condition. The only thing they were sure of was that Qrow was still conscious, as his groans of pain could be heard even through the thick doors meant to provide a sanitary barrier between the general area and the infirmary itself. Ana and Price both dropped by briefly to express their sorrow, with Ana letting them know she would be sure to let others know they were not to be disturbed unless there was any kind of news, good or bad.

 

Blake found herself drifting off to sleep, awakened by somebody shaking her shoulder later. She opened her eyes to see Tygan standing before them, the only evidence of his work small bloodstains on his labcoat.

“Ladies, gentleman,” he said. “I have good news. Both Mr. Arc and Miss Valkyrie received grazing hits, now, granted, those hits are still serious, and they won't be back in the field for some time.”

Collectively, RWBY, Ren and Pyrrha breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Branwen's condition is more difficult to diagnose, however. His right boot has been completely dissolved, and the skin on his heel with it. I'll have to heavily disinfect his foot, and if worse comes to worse...”

“Don't say it,” Yang pleaded. “I think we get it.”

“Can we see them?” Ruby asked.

Tygan nodded. “Of course,” he said, gesturing to the door. “Right this way, please.”

 

Tygan led them into the infirmary, where beeping medical machines monitored the vital signs of Nora, Jaune and Qrow, each in a bed and for the most part awake and coherent. Blake could see immediately that, despite obvious pains in various parts of their bodies, Jaune and Nora were in good spirits. Qrow maintained his chronically annoyed look, perhaps more irritated than anything by the wound he had sustained. Ruby and Yang both broke off to see Qrow, as the rest of them headed directly to Jaune and Nora.

 

“What happened to you guys?” Blake asked, the burning question on her and Weiss's minds.

“I don't know, really,” Jaune said. “I was holding the line and then...it all just went black and I woke up here.”

“It was those giant green ones,” Nora said. “They just kept shooting. But hey, I got two of them before I went down!”

“You actually got seven,” Ren informed her.

“Where was Freeman during all this?” Weiss asked, curious.

Jaune shrugged. “He was just shouting orders the entire time. Or yelling at the aliens to stop.”

 

Increasingly, Blake was getting the idea Freeman was less an officer, and more just some fool who somehow bumbled into a command position. Who had given him of all people authority to lead anything? She couldn't understand how anyone would let him have this kind of power.

 

But, her friends were safe. That's what mattered.

 

And, even if it was fleeting, she could see Tyson actually did care about somebody other than himself. She had to talk to him about this, immediately.

 

Blake cornered Tyson as he was tossing a pair of pills into his mouth, followed up with a swig of water. Noticing Blake's curious look, he explained they were pain pills, relieving him from pain that was afflicting his back. He decided to sit down while he waited for them to kick in, in the interim only having bothered to put on a simple sleeveless white shirt.

 

“I wanted to ask you about something,” she asked.

Tyson seemed unsurprised, but nodded to let her keep talking.

“You helped Qrow and Ruby, when you didn't have to. Why?”

Tyson nodded, straightening himself up on the couch. “Nobody told you what it is a Ranger does, huh?”

Blake shook her head.

“Rangers,” Tyson said, “are elite soldiers of the United States Army. I set the example all others should follow. Surrender isn't a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy.”

“That sounds a lot like your own code,” Blake noted.

“Killip and I are the only Rangers left, and I don't know if you've noticed, but he's a bit off his rocker.”

“So you think it's up to you to keep that up?”

“No,” Tyson said, shaking his head. “It's up to me to uphold it because it's what was expected of me. I'm going to fight as an American soldier, even if the very ideas of America or the Rangers die with me.”

 

Blake nodded. She had finally gotten a glimpse, as much as he was unaware of it, into Tyson's psyche, and that alone told her so much more than she knew before. She wasn't fully comfortable allowing herself to fall into his arms like some character in one of her novels, but she could work from this. He wouldn't know yet, of course. Too soon, she reasoned. Admitting it now would only cause problems.


	12. Dezinformatsiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira goes missing - but is it voluntary, or by force?

Security had been stepped up at XCOM's headquarters following the alien raid. Adam's escape in the raid was a black mark on their history here, and news had already leaked out, hurting their standing with the locals. Three days passed without an alien response, uncharacteristically quiet for them. Tyson was fine with it – the break allowed him to produce some more ammo and check in with the squad, make sure they were doing alright. So far, all was well. He could rest easy knowing that their war machine was well-oiled and working fine.

 

One morning, he awoke to see nothing unusual. Hannah had probably already awaken to work out and eat, Freeman was still asleep. O'Deorain had pulled guard duty last night, and as expected wasn't in her bunk. Tyson got out of bed, stretched, and headed out to get some food. On his way out, he passed by Dudley, who looked dead tired.

 

“Yo,” he said to Tyson, “can you tell Moira dat the next time she wants to skip guard duty, to fuckin' find someone to cover for her?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Tyson asked. “She didn't relieve you?”

Dudley shook his head. “Nah. I was up dere all night waiting. Had to leave and get some coffee to keep myself standin'.”

“Well, where the fuck is she now? She ain't in her bunk.”

“I dunno,” Dudley said, shrugging and heading to his room, presumably to get some much-deserved sleep.

 

This was strange. O'Deorain wouldn't ignore duty like that, and if she had to, she wouldn't forget to find somebody to take her place. He had to investigate. Tyson searched O'Deorain's known haunts, checking the lab, bar, common area, but all were empty. Nobody had seen her since last night, when night duties were distributed. He searched the entire base twice over, trying to find something, any sort of clue that'd tell him where O'Deorain went.

 

“Tyson,” Price said, interrupting his eighth search of the lab, “you're going to burn a hole in the ground, if you keep pacing like this.”

“Sir,” he responded, “O'Deorain's MIA. Dudley reports she didn't relieve him on guard duty last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not in her bunk, her kit's here, she's just gone, sir. I've searched this base nine times, and nothing.”

Price sighed, shaking his head. “Alright. I'm giving you permission to go through her things, see if you can't find something out. I'll have Shen track her scroll.”

“Will do, sir,” Tyson said, heading back to his shared room with O'Deorain.

 

The room looked almost the same as it had when he first left it two hours ago, but now he saw potential clues. O'Deorain's bag still hung on one of the bunk posts, filled with notebooks on things she had observed written in Gaelic, with accompanying sketches of various creatures she saw. More sketches and notes on some of the Faunus she had come across, mostly Blake, but not knowing Gaelic Tyson couldn't decipher her notes.

 

Tossing the notebooks away, he searched even further, with nothing more interesting in the bag besides personal items that he assumed held some sentimental value for the Irishwoman. Tyson turned his attention to O'Deorain's part of the dresser, shared between her and Hannah. Opening drawers, not much else could be found other than casual clothing, a neatly folded-up labcoat, and other such garments. He rifled through the clothing, hoping to find something, but instead found her personal scroll.

 

Why would she leave her scroll? Come to think of it, she had left _everything_ behind. All she really had were the clothes on her back, if she had been kidnapped or simply left of her own volition. Did she expect to return? Tyson activated her scroll, unprotected by a password or other such security. It contained personal notes on the members of Misfit, as well as notes she didn't deem worthy of writing down in one of her notebooks. The contact book had a series of numbers, mostly other squad leaders and subordinates. There was another one, only marked as “Ordú nua”. What did that mean?

 

Disappointed by the lack of answers to his questions, Tyson sighed, updating Shen that tracking O'Deorain's scroll was pointless, as she didn't have it on her person. Tyson took another look at the scroll, a file having caught his attention. It looked like a video file, titled “Teachtaireacht”. What the hell was this?

 

This seemed the only thing that could provide an answer, and thus he opened the file to see O'Deorain's face staring back at him. Must have been prerecorded. The sunlight suggested she had taken this video sometime in the afternoon.

 

_“_ _Hello, interloper,”_ she began. _“If you're watching this, then I'm long gone. XCOM is no longer useful to me, and as such I seek greener pastures. Do let Central Officer Bradford know it's nothing personal – I simply have no need for your work.”_

She paused, almost as if she had forgotten what she was going to say next.

_“_ _Oh yes, you're probably wondering why I'm gone. Well, if you don't already know...then I can't possibly inform you so as to give you understanding. Don't follow me, don't try to find me. I'll kill anyone you send, and I'd hate to kill some of you.”_

She smiled, giving her signature witch-like wave, before disappearing, whereupon the recording cut off.

 

This wasn't good.

 

* * *

 

 

The recording played over and over as Bradford, Amari, and Price watched. None of them looked particularly pleased to see O'Deorain had decided to up and leave, and perhaps more disturbingly none of them could understand _why_. From all accounts, O'Deorain had all she needed with XCOM, a place to sleep, food, plenty of aliens to experiment on. Why leave?

 

“Alright,” Bradford said, pausing the recording just as she waved at them again. “The Commander's not thrilled. She wants Moira back, _now._ ”

“Hard to do that,” Price said. “She's got at least half a day on us. With her powers, she could be anywhere.”

“What else do we know?” Amari asked. “Did she say anything to anyone before she left?”

“Not that I could find,” Tyson said. “All of her things are here. Clothes, notebooks, personal items, everything. It's like she just walked out the door and didn't look back.”

 

The room fell silent for a time. O'Deorain's smug face stared at them, unmoving in the recording, almost mocking them even when she wasn't actually there.

“I hate to do this,” Bradford sighed, “but we need to inform Ozpin and Qrow about her. We need their help finding her.”

“You sure we should do that?” Price asked, raising an eyebrow. “We're already on shaky ground with them.”

“They found her once, they can do it again,” Bradford insisted. “What other choice do we have?”

“Does the Commander agree to this?” Amari asked.

“I do,” the Commander said, walking into the room. Immediately, they stiffened up.

Bradford saluted, announcing for the room, “Commander on deck!”

“At ease,” the Commander said, motioning for Bradford to drop his salute. “Where are we at?”

 

Tyson noted he had never actually _seen_ the Commander before, at least not that he could remember. She was a black woman, her voice carried hints of a West African accent, and her hair was neatly trimmed and kept back in a military regulation bun. Nigerian, maybe? He couldn't tell.

 

“We were about to brief Ozpin and Qrow on our situation with Moira,” Bradford explained.

“Let me make this clear,” she said. “I don't care if we have to drag O'Deorain back in a soup can. I want her back here.”

“Understood, ma'am. Shoot to kill?”

“Tell me about this recording, first.”

“I can answer that, Commander,” Tyson said, stepping forward. The Commander allowed him to speak, nodding. “O'Deorain made this message as a sort of vague manifesto, informing whoever found it she was leaving, but refused to say why. I believe her words were, 'If you don't already know, I can't inform you'.”

“I see,” the Commander said, folding her arms. “Alright. Inform Ozpin and Qrow, but also get the rest of Echo 1-2 in here. I want them to take the lead on this one. And, yes Bradford. Shoot to kill.”

“We would be honored, ma'am,” Ana said, bowing her head.

 

Nodding to Amari, the Commander departed, having made her will known for the moment. Tyson was given the job of retrieving the rest of Echo 1-2, and also Qrow and Ozpin, only informing them to meet at the command room and that there, they would get more answers. Once they had been assembled, he took his place off to the side, ready to watch the fireworks.

 

“As I'm sure you've heard,” Bradford said, pacing, “Moira is MIA.”

“Good riddance,” Xiao Long commented.

“Now, Xiao Long, Schnee, from what I understand you two already know about her past. Is that right?”

“It is,” Schnee said.

“Alright. Qrow, Ozpin. We haven't been entirely honest with you.”

Qrow didn't appear fazed in the least, while Ozpin raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but otherwise remained silent.

“Moira O'Deorain conducted research that directly led to Earth's genocide,” Bradford said. “In the past, she worked with the aliens to build the gene therapy clinics that allowed the aliens to kill so many of us. She defected to us, and we thought she could be trusted.”

Qrow held up a hand. “Stop me if I have this wrong. You recruited a woman who you knew was responsible for this, and you thought she could be trusted?”

 

Bradford sighed. This clearly wasn't how he wanted this to go. Blake seemed more annoyed than anything. Had Xiao Long or Schnee told her about Moira? Probaby. Rose looked upset, though that could also be because Schnee or her sister had said something to her.

 

“I must question the logic of your Commander,” Ozpin said, “if they would allow such a person into your ranks. Where is this Moira now?”

“We don't know,” Bradford said. “The Commander herself interrogated her, and she thought we could trust Moira. Obviously, we were wrong. We're trying to find Moira so we can bring her back here, but she'll be punished. Of that I can assure you.”

“I'm having a hard time buying that,” Qrow said. “You knew what she did. Why do you want her back so much?”

“Because if Moira defects to the aliens again, then the future of our operations against them is in jeopardy.”

Qrow shook his head, clearly pissed. “Yeah, because _we've_ been doing such a bang-up job lately.”

“I have another question,” Ozpin asked. “Why should we continue to trust you after this? Why not inform us of her role in your own destruction when you first came here?”

“Look, the reasons _why_ aren't important right now,” Bradford said, getting angry. “We need to find Moira and either bring her back here or kill her. Commander's orders.”

 

Bradford's words hung in the air like the smell of rain. Nobody said anything for a while, and the tension was almost as tangible as the steel Tyson leaned against.

 

“Hold on,” Xiao Long said, cutting into the silence. “Moira said something once about how...I dunno, 'the true struggle was for ideas' or something?”

“You told me about that,” Schnee said. “For the _superiority_ of ideas, she said.”

“Alright, that's more than we had before,” Price said, his first words since the Commander had left. “Know anyone who would appeal to Moira's ideas?”

The members of RWBY, Qrow, and Ozpin looked at one another, worried. That wasn't good.

“If I may,” Ozpin asked, “what exactly _was_ Moira's goal when she joined the aliens?”

“She wanted research opportunities,” Bradford said. “She was shunned by the world when the aliens invaded.”

“Nobody could replicate her experiments,” Amari added. “She felt that my organization conspired to suppress her.”

“I fear I know who she went to,” Ozpin said.

 

“Salem.”

 

* * *

 

 

The briefing that followed made Tyson aware that RWBY's scouting mission against Salem had gone without success – they simply were unable to determine where Salem was, or if she was doing anything of significance. Ozpin speculated that O'Deorain had sought out Salem's faction almost immediately, even going so far as to claim that Salem had made contact with her after they made the jump to Remnant.

 

Obviously, Ozpin posited, Salem had gone to great lengths to convince and cajole O'Deorain that working with her was better in the end, perhaps promising success, fame, or maybe just the pure satisfaction of seeing people like Amari squirm. Whatever the reason, Echo 1-2 had a singular purpose now, to hunt down and find O'Deorain, and either bring her back or kill her on sight.

 

And thus that was how Tyson found himself in a field, God-knows how far from the base, heading towards O'Deorain's last known position. Already friendly contacts had reported spotting her, moving to an unclear goal. Nobody knew where Salem was hiding, not even Ozpin or Qrow, and as such their search had to cover practically the entire continent, even as the constant threat of alien invasion remained looming over their heads.

 

At least it was a good day.


	13. Coalescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira's new mission brings pain to RWBY.

This facility was already providing a great deal of interesting subjects for Moira to study, ranging from the Grimm that spawned almost like clockwork from the tar-like pits, to the strange hangers-on that Salem had acquired for herself. She marveled at how Salem was able to collect these people, gleefully working alongside Watts to conjure up new toys for the local psychotic madman to play with. The one known as Hazel looked upon her with disdain, but it was no matter, he would come around to her way of thinking eventually.

 

“You've done well for yourself, Moira,” Salem said to her one day, having summoned Moira to her chambers.

Moira bowed deeply. “You're too kind, Salem. I cannot begin to thank you for the resources you've granted me, they've been of wonderful help.”

She had already supplemented her natural psionic abilities with further and further experiments, unfortunately at the cost of her right hand, visibly necrotic yet still serviceable, and being forced to wear a metal plate over her left eye, another unfortunate side effect of her many experiments.

“Your information led us to great success against Ozpin's new allies.”

“I was more than happy to help,” Moira said, returning from her bow and smiling. “Their work is of no use to me.”

“And you're sure you can defeat these aliens after we destroy XCOM?”

“The aliens have no subtlety,” Moira said, a critical tone entering her voice. “All they understand is destruction and occupation. No regard for the sciences, no drive to learn from those they conquer.”

“That doesn't sound like an answer, Moira.”

“Repelling the aliens will not be an issue.”

 

Salem nodded slowly and deliberately, not taking her blood-red eyes off of Moira. Had Moira not seen far worse alien beings or more disgusting experiments of her own, Salem's unblinking gaze would have unnerved her. Instead, Moira couldn't help but to stare Salem dead-on, smiling the entire time.

 

“Well,” Salem finally said. “I'm glad at least one of you has confidence. I hope for your sake that you are right, and that this alliance with the aliens will not interfere with future plans.”

Moira bowed again, formally dismissed from Salem's chambers. She saw two of the younger ones – what were their names again? Mercutio and Ember? – standing guard outside the door. Moira grinned and waved at them, an act that unnerved them both. Moira took great pleasure in making the pair uncomfortable.

 

From what little Moira had heard from Watts and Hazel, these two had been hangers-on that a former associate, Cinder, had brought with her. Salem must have thought them to still have some use to keep them around, but until she could discern that use, keeping them disturbed was fun for her. Greatly amused at their reaction again, Moira began to head back to her lab, only to be stopped by Hazel and Watts, who stood in front of her.

 

“I see you're settling in quite nicely,” Watts said, a neutral look on his face.

“Indeed. Thank you, Doctor, for your assistance in bringing me up to speed in this world.”

“I still very much doubt your story, but you're welcome anyway.”

Moira faked shock, placing a hand on her chest. “You wound me, Doctor. I had thought we were getting along.”

“We _are_ getting along,” Watts reminded her, “so long as you are useful.”

“Who is it again that decides who is useful and who isn't?” Moira teased, still grinning. She could see Watts squirm, wanting to find something condescending to say but failing.

“Let's hope your further work doesn't lead to more pointless slaughter,” Hazel said, the man's first words to her since she had joined.

 

The two departed, apparently done with talking for now. No matter. Moira had many other matters to attend to, such as more intense study of the Grimm and learning more and more of their structure and genetics. These beings fascinated her – fantastic beasts that disappeared when killed, each one independent and yet part of a larger goal. Even the rarer ones, the ones that struck terror into the hearts of those who encountered them, were projects, toys for Moira to mess and experiment with.

 

She lost herself in the experiments, trying to fuse different Grimm together to create altogether more disturbing creatures. Maybe she could even learn to conjure these herself, another advantage she would have over XCOM. Eventually, the gray-haired one came to retrieve her, informing her that the aliens had sent an envoy to discuss future plans with Salem, and that she had asked Moira to be present.

 

As she had expected, the aliens had sent elements of their military, an officer and two troopers to escort it. Moira, Hazel, Watts, and the two children stood off to the side, observing the proceedings. The officer and troopers placed an arm on their chest, recognizing Salem's superiority and importance. Good, they knew their place.

 

“ _Bor e-shalla,_ ” the officer said.

Annoying, they still hadn't bothered to train their soldiers to use common languages.

“I wish I had been able to meet the Elders personally, but this will have to suffice,” Salem replied.

“ _Yau kh-thoor. Char boll m'hablana.”_

“I disagree. You know that you need my cooperation.”

“ _Kor thall!”_ The officer looked somewhat angry. Moira didn't know they were capable of emotion. _“Per nill rashallah kh-voll!”_

“Your weapons can't harm my creations. You want to occupy Remnant? You can. But only after I weaken humanity and bend them to my will.”

_“_ _Ordu shah haklam rublellah h'kah. Ingor, bosh sarari j'mallah.”_

“Your subordinates have no subtlety. We kill everyone associated with XCOM, and then we can get to work. You will know when I have achieved my goals.”

_“_ _Nash brokaar?”_ The officer jerked his head to Moira, and Salem turned to look to her as well.

“Moira,” Salem said. “They wish to know if your duplicitous nature can be trusted.”

“They know how I work. If they hold doubts, I wouldn't believe them worth our time.”

“I will be the judge of that,” Salem said, casting her gaze back to the officer. “Satisfied?”

 

The officer nodded, and along with its escort, left the chambers, again granting an honorific warrior's salute to Salem. Hazel sighed, crossing his arms.

“I hope these aliens don't destroy too much,” he said. “I'd hate for what happened to Earth happen here.”

“XCOM allowed that on Earth,” Moira remarked. “With our talents, we can easily dismantle their little coalition, and then Remnant will be putty in our hands.”

“Moira,” Salem said, “the silver-eyed girl. Did you meet her?”

“Indeed. One of their strongest, if less tactically adept.”

“I want you to kill her. Kill her, and her friends, and bring me her head on a plate.”

Moira grinned, bowing. “With pleasure. I'll begin immediately.”

 

* * *

 

 

Echo 1-2's travels took them across the entire continent, mostly covering ground RWBY couldn't on their past mission against Salem. If you ignored why they were out here, the scene was almost serene to Yang. Lush forests gave way to rolling plains, in most cases a good thing, but in each crest, each tree cluster, each large bush, Yang saw a threat, on edge all the time. She missed the days when she could just enjoy a walk in the woods and not have to worry about getting shot.

 

At least Yang was still with her team. So far, that was about the only positive thing about this whole expedition. Yang wasn't convinced that Moira would ever come without a fight, and fully intended on putting her in the dirt the second that she made a threatening move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Weiss slow her pace, matching hers.

 

“What's up?” Yang asked, expecting an update on what somebody farther forward saw.

“What's with Blake?” Weiss quietly asked.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Weiss sighed, shaking her head. “I'm not stupid, Yang. I know something happened between the Lieutenant and Blake.”

“Oh,” Yang said.

Shit. Blake hadn't said if she could talk about this. Hell, Yang didn't even know where Blake _stood_ with him anymore. Would she be angry if she talked about it to Weiss?

“OK, look,” Yang said, scratching the back of her head. “I really don't know if I can talk about it.”

Weiss's eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious.

“We're a _team_ , Yang,” she reminded her, “we can't keep secrets from each other. If the Lieutenant is still a threat like Blake thinks, I'd like to know.”

“What's gotten into you today, Weiss? He's been good to us so far.”

“I keep seeing Blake look his way. She did the same thing when we were on the ship back here.”

 

On instinct, Yang looked over to Blake, who coincidentally was doing exactly what Weiss said – looking right at Tyson, apparently not caring who saw. Ana and Tyson were in the front of all of them, speaking in Russian to one another and unaware of what was happening behind them. Blake looked away, and Yang could have sworn her face turned red. What the fuck? What was going on here?

 

Tyson suddenly did a 180, walking backwards and holding a fist up, calling out, “ _Stoy!”_ They had quickly figured out from past missions that this meant he wanted them to stop, and thus the group slowed down, unsure what to do. This part of the road looked relatively clear to Yang. Why were they stopping?

“Alright,” Tyson announced. “Take 10. Get some food in you, drink water, rest your legs, whatever.”

Relieved, RWBY headed off the road, taking seats on anything nearby that looked solid enough. Tyson had already started eating a savory pastry he had made before leaving, of which he had dozens that he freely shared with anyone who wanted one. Yang already was drinking some water, scanning the horizon for anything as Blake and Ruby broke apart some bread to share.

 

Still peaceful. Good. Yang hoped it would stay this way. She couldn't help but notice Blake still stealing glances at Tyson, the latter of whom remained unaware of these incidents. Should she say something? The ten minutes passed faster than expected, and before Yang could contemplate anything, they were back on the road again.

 

The path took them to a dense forest, much like the one they had first encountered the alien mechs in. It made Yang uneasy. Soft rains soon began to fall, adding to the unease everyone was feeling. She heard rain bounce off the canopy above her, splattering her with water. For now, it wasn't too bad, but if it kept up, they'd be positively soaked. Yang could feel the pressure increasing, the ever-present threat of dread hanging over her.

 

She glanced over at Weiss, and could tell the same feeling was overwhelming her. Quick looks at Blake and Ruby confirmed that theory as well. They _all_ could feel the same feeling of dismay. She couldn't see Ana or Tyson, but Yang could hear Tyson practically chanting to himself. Was he speaking Russian or German? She couldn't tell from this distance.

 

Then, all at once, they heard Moira's signature laugh. Instantly, they each whipped around to face different directions, obfuscating where Moira was really coming from.

“We know you're out there, O'Deorain!” Tyson called out, leveling his weapon at a line of bushes.

“You can come back peacefully,” Ana said, trying to reason with her. As if that'd actually work.

Yang spotted her appearing to their right, sitting peacefully on a tree branch. Immediately she could tell she had changed, spotting the necrotic arm, and her fingers which had now been extended somehow to an unnatural length, the fingernails more like talons. A curious plate covered her left eye, but for what purpose?

“Oh, how little you've all changed,” Moira said, mocking them. She extended her necrotic arm, dropping her grin and pointing directly to Ruby. “You. I've been told to kill you.”

“What?” Ruby said, caught off-guard. “Why?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Moira cackled, an evil grin crossing her face.

“No,” Tyson said. “If it were obvious, then we wouldn't be sitting here discussing it, now would we?”

“Ever the aggressive one. Not even a little curious about where I went?”

 

Yang clenched her fists, staring Moira down, shouting, “No! You're threatening my family for the last time!”

“Wait a minute,” Ana said, holding her hands up in an attempt to stem any violence. “Moira, what do you think you're doing? Do you think this will help anything?”

Moira's grin faded, as did she, reappearing at the base of the tree. She steepled her hands, standing regally as she said to them, “Salem's goals are aligned with my own. I don't expect you to understand. Are we going to continue talking, or will you be attempting to bring me in?”

Ana's head shook back and forth slowly. Sighing heavily, she looked back at the squad, regret shadowing her face as she intentionally locked eyes with Tyson, giving him a quick nod.

“O'Deorain,” he called out, “last chance. Come peacefully.”

Moira tilted her head up, looking down on them in more ways than one.

“No.”

 

Yang didn't need any orders, not that any had been given once the shooting started. Ana fell back, aiming to hold with Ruby and Weiss to screen Moira. Tyson already had begun sending a hail of bullets to Moira's position as Yang and Blake both charged forward. By the time they and the bullets had reached her, though, she was gone, having already disappeared again. Moira's laugh punctured the air, changing direction with each passing second. She reappeared between the six of them, a demonic grin affixed to her face as she extended her necrotic hand towards Ruby. From that hand, a sickening ray of purple energy crept towards Ruby, moving faster than anyone could even imagine.

 

Ruby cried out in pain as the bizarre ray attached itself to her, clearly putting her in intense pain. Blinded by rage, Yang unleashed a blood-curdling yell and charged Moira again, though she was unable to escape this time due to being focused on wearing Ruby down. Moira turned just in time to see Yang's fist headed right for her face, sending Moira careening across the forest, destroying several trees along the way. Panting heavily, Yang centered herself, staring at the path Moira took to see if she was down and out or for good.

 

Blake, Tyson and Ana rushed past her. Behind her, Yang could hear Weiss talking to Ruby, asking if she was okay. Thankfully, Moira didn't have enough time to deal any serious damage to Ruby, possibly compromising her Aura but no injuries she could tell. Again, Moira's cackling filled the air as she staggered forward out of the destruction, keeping herself upright against a tree, a small yellow orb being dribbled next to her.

 

Laughing, she stared at Yang as she said, “Biology's habits are hard to break.” Moira chuckled some more, wiping blood off of her face as her orb dissipated, looking back up at Yang. “I had wanted to just kill the girl and watch the rest of you suffer, but-”

Whatever she had planned to say next was cut off by Blake wrapping Gambol Shroud around her ankles, dragging her towards the group. As this happened, Weiss pinned her to the ground with glyphs, preventing her from escaping or attempting to harm them. Once far enough forward, Tyson and Ana both aimed their weapons at Moira, as Yang stood over her, prepared to go in for the kill.

 

“She's too dangerous to let live,” Yang said, not even bothering to look up.

“We have our orders,” Ana reminded them.

“Yeah,” Tyson said. “And we had orders to put her down if she was a threat.”

“You think you can kill me?” Moira asked, that same goddamn smile on her face. “Don't you think I predicted such a scenario?”

A dark orb shot up from Moira's hands, forcing the squad back to avoid the pain of the orb's tendrils attacking them. Yang jumped back, and looked to see Moira had escaped the glyphs and was next to her, forcing her into a vulnerable position and using whatever this ray was to break down her Aura.

“Tell me how it feels,” Moira whispered into her ear, “as I kill you.”

 

Yang could feel her Aura breaking, until she could then feel the most intense pain she had ever experienced, causing her to scream louder than she ever had before in her life. Moira had been able to block her from using her prosthetic, but Yang was able to maneuver her other arm around to detach it, using it and the pain she had built up to again send Moira flying, this time into a far sturdier tree that stopped her from moving anywhere else for a long while.

 

She stood up, locking her arm back into place. Her other arm still twinged in pain, and she looked to see that whatever Moira had been attacking her with had cut through her sleeve, revealing lightly burnt flesh underneath. Moira knelt at the base of the tree, coughing up blood and near collapse. Feeling the heat of anger burning inside her, Yang stomped over to Moira, intent on only one thing. She heard Ana calling out for her, but ignored the woman's pleas. Whether anyone else was saying anything, she couldn't tell.

 

As she stopped in front of Moira, the defeated woman looked up at her, blood pouring from her mouth and nose. Blood-stained teeth broke through in Moira's grin, and the strange plate around her eye was broken, revealing skin that looked like it had been shattered like glass.

“I'm not dead yet,” she said weakly, struggling to stand.

“You better sit back down,” Yang said.

Moira laughed again, blood being flicked through the air with each breath she took. The insane look in her eyes only grew more intense as she looked at each member of Echo, again throwing out her necrotic hand, shouting, “ ** _Surrender to my will!”_**

The beam she sent out was the same as when she had killed the prototypical alien Avatar, hitting Yang first. It knocked her to the ground, and as she rolled to avoid it, she heard Tyson, Ana, Blake, Ruby, Weiss all screaming in pain. The screams echoed through the air, and as Yang got herself back up, she saw Moira had again disappeared, but she couldn't be heard anywhere.

 

“Fuck,” Yang said, “fuck fuck FUCK FUCK **FUUUUUUUUUUCK!** ”

She pounded the ground, angry at herself for not killing Moira when she had a perfect chance to. More than anything, she was pissed that Moira had been able to hurt them, _all_ of them, and get away. Yang looked up to see her teammates checking themselves for any serious wounds. Tyson and Ana both had lost sleeves, the former having dropped his machine gun entirely to tend to a wound, throwing off his combat vest. Blake didn't appear too badly injured. She looked over to Weiss, who looked weak, but not too seriously hurt, and then Ruby.

 

Ruby was on the ground, not moving.


	14. Pacify Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team recovers from the effects of Moira's attacks. Wounded, Moira plots anew.

“Go, go, go!” Tyson shouted, carrying Ruby over his shoulders, indifferent to the pain that surely was emanating from his wounds.

Ana had called in help the second that they had confirmed Moira had escaped, a disappointing result, but given their wounds and the fact they had confirmed Moira was now working with Salem, it was considered a semi-successful mission.

 

But right now, all they could do was run as fast as they could, heading to a rendezvous point with a transport to get them back to the headquarters. Ruby was unconscious. Ana and Tyson only had rudimentary medical training, good for patching up wounds in the field, but useless for something like this. Yang had grabbed Tyson's machine gun, carrying it for him. Blake did her best to ignore the pain, each step like a stab in her thigh that only went deeper. She didn't know what Moira had used against them, but she hoped that Tygan could find a way to at least drown the pain out for a time.

 

She lost track of time as they made their way to their awaiting transport, only noting that the sun had begun to set, casting a yellow tint across the landscape once the rain stopped. Dust was kicked up by the landing ship, where Price and his squad emerged to help Tyson get Ruby in, and make sure Echo was safe heading into it. Words were exchanged between Price and Tyson, but in the confusion and concern for Ruby, she didn't pay attention to them. All she needed was to make sure Ruby was safe, and right now, she looked pretty far from it.

 

Tyson gingerly placed Ruby on the floor of the transport as it took off, with the members of Price's squad not far behind them. Yang practically shoved people off the ship on her way to her sister, kneeling next to Ruby. Blake found herself drawn to Ruby, along with Weiss. Already, Blake could hear Price briefing Tygan on the situation, words that so far didn't mean anything to Blake. Tyson had wisely decided to stand off to the side, letting Ruby's friends stay close to her.

 

Returning to the headquarters, Yang and Blake took charge in getting Ruby to Tygan. Blake was unaware of anything happening around her other than just getting Ruby to help, fast. She was acutely aware of Yang screaming at Tygan, begging him to do something, _anything_ , to help Ruby. Now that her senses were slowly coming back to her as she came off the adrenaline high, Blake could see Weiss, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, she felt wetness on her own face too. Was it blood? No, just tears as well. Tygan was busily setting up machines, rolling the bed Ruby had been put on behind a curtain, ordering medical professionals who had volunteered to join XCOM to examine the rest of Echo.

 

Blake soon became overwhelmed with fatigue again, allowing a doctor to move her to a bed to give her an examination. Predictably, Yang stood defiant, shouting that she wasn't about to leave Ruby. Weiss seemed completely in shock, her unblinking eyes locked in a thousand-yard stare. Tyson and Ana soon came in as well, quickly making the infirmary far too cramped.

 

By pure happenstance, Blake had been put on a bed next to Qrow, his foot wrapped with gauze. He sighed as the doctor finished their examination of Blake, finding the burns on her leg, but unsure what to do about it.

“So,” Qrow said solemnly. “What happened out there?”

“We went after Moira,” Blake said.

“With what she did? That's pretty dangerous.”

“She's working with Salem.”

Maybe for the first time since she had met him, Qrow looked surprised, but this surprise faded quickly.

“Should've known. This Commander's reckless, sending you out to find Moira. She should have sent others with you.”

“We can handle ourselves, Qrow.”

“You sure? Looks like Moira did a number on all of you.”

 

Blake was about to answer him when Tygan stepped between their beds, holding a clipboard. He looked first at Qrow, nodding to acknowledge his presence, and then turned to examine Blake's wounds.

“Just as I suspected,” he said. “Moira's psionic abilities have only grown since the loss of the Avenger.”

“What's that mean?” Blake asked, cringing in pain as Tygan lightly poked her wounds.

“Moira is able to physically embody decay and regeneration, both with orbs she summons and her plasma ray,” Tygan explained. “By channeling her psionic abilities, she is able to use her knowledge of genetics to either break down genetic structures or reinforce the body's natural regenerative properties.”

“So, I'm stuck like this forever?”

“No, we knew of Moira's danger, and she helped us to create a serum that would undo any accidental harm she caused.”

“I bet the people who went to the clinics think she 'accidentally' harmed them, too,” Yang called from across the room.

“Regardless,” Tygan continued, ignoring Yang, “the good news is you'll be back to your normal selves within the weekend. The bad news is that you will have to report for injections each day, to ensure that your body recovers properly.”

 

“What about Ruby?” Qrow asked, genuine concern on his face.

Tygan sighed, bringing his clipboard up to his face. “I'm afraid Miss Rose was the most affected by Moira's plasma ray. Since it has grown exponentially in lethality since her time on the Avenger, I have no way of knowing how it's affected her. I'll have to closely observe her and run additional tests.”

“So you don't know, then,” Qrow replied, unimpressed.

“At the moment, no,” Tygan answered. “But, I have full confidence that we will be able to restore Miss Rose's condition and get her back to fighting immediately.”

“For your sake, Doc,” Qrow said, “you better be able to.”

“Should I construe that as a threat, Mr. Branwen?”

“Not from me,” he said, pointing to Yang. “From her.”

 

* * *

 

 

The first serum injections went about as well as they could. The doctors had warned her, and the rest of Echo, of additional side effects such as weakness at the injection site, fatigue, and other such ailments. For Blake, she felt about as normal as she usually did, maybe a little more tired than normal. Until Tygan could confirm that they had fully recovered, they were off any sort of field work aside from guarding the base. This was just fine with them – nobody wanted to leave when Ruby was still unconscious and her fate was unclear.

 

In the interim, Qrow, Jaune and Nora had all recovered and soon returned to fighting. Alien sightings became common, and apart from light probing, the aliens refused to bother their headquarters again. Ana always suspected the aliens would attempt another assault, especially if the aliens continued to force soldiers into the infirmary. The constant shipping out of squads allowed Echo to remain in close contact, especially Blake with Tyson.

 

He didn't seem to suspect anything. Blake reflected on her first impression of him; a psychopathic madman who was nothing but trouble. But now? Even if she wasn't comfortable saying she saw a future with him, Blake felt herself accepting of at the minimum exploring the idea. Building on this, she waited until she could take a guard shift from him, giving her time to talk to him without any possible interruptions.

 

Like usual, he had taken night watch, scanning the horizon with spotlights and keeping his machine gun at the ready, set up on a tripod. She took a deep breath, unsure how this would go. He'd either react positively, or maybe he'd just throw it all in her face again. Who could tell at this point?

“Hey, Belladonna,” he said, taking down the tripod. “2-8. Amari will relieve you.”

“Hold on,” she said, causing him to pause.

Tyson gave her a curious look, cocking an eyebrow.

“Tyson,” Blake began, “I've been thinking a lot lately. You've done a lot of things that made me change how I perceive you.”

“That a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked as he continued to take apart the tripod.

“Good. Listen, I'm willing to take a chance on you. Maybe it works out, maybe it doesn't, but I want to see where it goes.”

Tyson didn't say anything for a while, simple keeping at packing up the tripod he was using and unloading his weapon. Sighing, he stood up, wiping grease off of his hands.

“Before I say anything else, I just want to know one thing. Why now?”

 

Blake nodded. She should have expected him to question her motives. It was probably only natural at this point.

“When we first gathered all of you up, I had an argument with my team. Even though she had no reason to, Ana came and talked to me, helped me see their side and convinced me that I should forgive them.”

“I'm not seeing a point,” Tyson said, interrupting her.

“Let me finish,” Blake admonished. “Ana said to me that she hoped we would move on past that argument, because she had seen too many people die before they could say what they wanted. We're in the middle of a war, not just against the aliens, but against Salem too, and Salem's allies are far, _far_ worse than whatever the aliens can bring. I want to know before I die. I _have_ to know.”

Tyson remained silent, avoiding her gaze as much as he possibly could. Wordlessly, he picked up his machine gun and its tripod, preparing to walk away.

“Alright then,” he finally said. “I guess we're doing this.”

 

* * *

 

 

The pair opted to meet in secret, unwilling to risk being spotted by others. Their first such clandestine meeting was in the middle of the night three days later, when most would be asleep and when Tyson could guarantee a swapping of the guard wouldn't discover them. The sky was dark, and stars dotted the horizon for what seemed like eternity, a nice, chill night.

 

Tyson was unusually relaxed, opting not to wear his softcap and appearing in casual clothes, a stark difference from what Blake was used to seeing. He sat on the ground outside the base, leaning against the wall and staring at the stars.

“Hey,” Blake said, getting his attention.

“Sup,” he said, gesturing for her to sit next to him.

“So...I guess we're really doing this, huh?”

“Yeah, reckon so,” Tyson said. “Well, you know what they say. Turnabout is fair play.”

“Huh?” Blake gave him a quizzical look, unsure what he meant.

“You got to know about me. I wanna know about you, Blake.”

“Oh,” Blake replied, looking to the ground. How could she answer this?

 

Suddenly it dawned on her that he was in the same situation he was not too long ago. She found herself having difficulty finding the words to describe herself, unsure what he wanted to know. Blake racked her brain, trying to think of something, anything, he probably didn't already know.

“Well,” she finally said, “I guess you figured out how I know Adam.”

“I had a guess.” he said. “But I wanna hear it from you.”

Blake sighed, apprehensive.

“I used to be part of the White Fang. We started out peacefully, working as activists for the Faunus. My parents were part of the leadership, until they stepped down. When they did, radicals like Adam took over, and I stood by them because I thought they were right. I called my own family traitors to a cause I didn't fully understand.”

 

Tyson didn't say anything for a while, no doubt mulling over her words. She could tell – he always stroked his chin when he was thinking about something.

“What would you say if I told you I understood that?”

Blake frowned, saying, “I hope so. I didn't think that would be a hard concept.”

“What I mean is,” Tyson said, shifting himself around, “before I joined the Army, I was a member of an all-black militia. We called ourselves the New American Revolutionary Front. Everything we did was to make sure our brothers and sisters could be free in a part of America that couldn't get over the 60's.”

“What happened in the 60's?”

Tyson chuckled. “1964 is when the United States government decided that discriminating against people because they didn't have the same skin color as you was wrong. Surprise, nobody caught on to that idea immediately.”

“Sounds like we're in the same boat,” Blake said, avoiding looking at him.

“Damn right. I don't know how many jaws I broke with them. I'm guessing you lost track when you were with the White Fang, right?”

 

Blake could only nod. Bringing these memories back up, she couldn't help but feel ashamed. She had blindly followed the White Fang, and they only destroyed what little reputation her father had built for them. It was infuriating.

“I was arrested four times,” Tyson said as Blake waxed poetic in her head. “The judge gave me a choice. I could either go to prison or join the Army. Three guesses what I did, and the first two don't count.”

“Why would they let you into the army?”

Tyson shrugged, saying, “Guess they figured they'd see me die in Afghanistan or something rather than just another number in a jail. It wasn't all bad, though. They paid for my education. If the aliens hadn't invaded, I'd have been set for life.”

“Do you miss it?” Blake asked, to which she got a confused look. “Earth.”

“I miss my family more than anything,” he said. “My brothers, my sisters, my friends, all the people I served with. I'd give anything to talk to them one more time.”

 

Tyson took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he stared at the ground. He closed his eyes, and Blake could guess he was probably trying very hard not to cry in front of her. Suddenly, he stood up, walking back into the headquarters.

“I'm sorry, Blake,” he said. “This is too heavy right now.”

He turned and headed back in, leaving Blake alone in the night. Had she pushed too far? Or was he afraid of revealing too much? She rested her head on the wall, slamming her eyes shut. Regret washed over her, wishing she hadn't brought Earth up. With no other compelling reason to stay outside, she too headed back in, sneaking back into her room.

 

* * *

 

 

Moira threw open the door to Salem's base, still weak from her battle with the child and her friends even with her restorative orbs aiding her journey back. The green-haired one stood near the door, surprised by her presence, looking her over.

“Wh-what happened to you?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“Get me Watts,” Moira ordered, “and do be quick about it.”

The girl made herself scare, and Moira began heading to her office, intent on restoring herself even further. However, not even her orbs were that good. She needed an actual doctor to look her over, and sadly Watts was the best they had.

 

Collapsing in her chair, Moira immediately set forth several orbs, already hard at work to help heal her wounds. Relief passed over her as she could feel her strength growing back. Not long after she had done this, Watts entered, a small army of machines behind him, medical protocol droids of his own design.

“Good God, woman,” he said, disgust on his face. “What happened to you?”

“I need healing,” she said flatly. “I can't do it alone.”

 

Sighing, Watts began examining her, marveling at how she was able to sustain injuries that, according to him, would kill most people, even with this curious Aura they had. Slowly, each wound was fixed thanks to her orbs and the capable hands of Watts' robotic aid workers. As she was being worked on, Salem decided to pay her a visit, the same stoic look on her face.

 

“I see you did not kill the silver-eyed girl,” she said, unmoving.

“There was a flaw in my approach,” Moira said. “A new methodology is required.”

“I'm disappointed in you. Here I thought you would accomplish this in short order.”

“I will allow none to stand in the way of progress,” Moira said, determined to prove to Salem she can – and would – kill Ruby Rose.

Calmly as ever, Salem replied, “Failure will not be tolerated. Either come back next time with the girl dead, or don't come back at all.”

 

Here Hazel entered, a scowl implanted on his face as he observed Moira's orbs and Watts' medical bots hard at work healing Moira. He said nothing as he walked in, taking a corner to watch the proceedings and nodding in respect to Salem as she left.

“My strength returns,” Moira announced, dismissing the bots. “Is there anyone else who wishes to gawk?”

Watts sighed, packing away his little machines, saying to her, “Hm. I hope whatever 'new methodology' you decide upon will lead to real results.”

“You doubt my abilities?”

“I doubt your _results_.”

Hazel stood straight, leaving his corner to say to the both of them, “Petty squabbles will get us nowhere. Moira, maybe I should join you next time.”

“Killing Rose is _my_ mission,” she reminded. “I don't need help.”

“Are you sure?” Watts asked. “It looks like they beat you without a problem.”

“Their arrogance is their undoing. I will unmake them.”

“Funny,” Hazel said. “Looks to me the only one who had any arrogance was _you._ ”

 

Incensed, Moira waved her necrotic hand at Hazel and Watts both, hoping to dismiss them so she could be alone. She had a lot of data to analyze and cover, and they just provided a distraction, pointless blabbering (or in Hazel's case, deafening silence) that only made concentration impossible. Watts made his exit without much issue, but Hazel stuck around, staring her down with a gaze that she couldn't read. Was he trying to unnerve her or intimidate her?

“Bit of advice,” he said. “You need to manage your expectations better.”

No doubt feeling satisfied, Hazel left as well, leaving Moira alone in a dark room, with only her orbs for company.

 

Moira now turned to her new notebook, furiously writing down everything she had learned. First of all, she had severely underestimated the strength of Xiao Long and her friends here on Remnant. Secondly, she had played her hand too early. They knew she had defected, and it was clear they were no longer interested in talking. No matter. If they wanted to kill her, they could certainly try. Nothing would stand in the way of progress.

 

Her notes began to resemble less organized thoughts and more the scribbles of a madwoman as she scrawled bit after bit, each thought put on paper as quickly as it entered her brain. She drew diagrams, theoretical models, a sketch of Rose's personal weapon, all in a vain pursuit to explain how she had lost and so severely miscalculated her mission. In the end, there was only one explanation.

 

She had misjudged Rose's abilities, and the abilities of her little team, because she had been misled and given false information. Salem had told her that defeating Rose would be easy, that killing her would end the threat she posed to Salem's organization. Rose was the lynchpin, Salem argued, and without her, her friends, XCOM, all of humanity itself would falter.

 

It was less than ideal. Xiao Long's psionic powers were potent on Earth, no doubt, but her natural powers on Remnant? It was like holding a candle to a raging wildfire, and Xiao Long had shown that side of her today. Schnee's powers too were far more powerful than when on Earth. The raven-haired one likely held secrets of her own, abilities that Moira had been unable to perceive or observe while at the headquarters.

 

Like a bolt of lightning, inspiration stuck her. Xiao Long was the key to this problem. She held a deeply personal grudge with Moira, and that grudge had forced her to abandon her teammates solely to kill _her_. A devilish smile cracked on Moira's face. Perfect. Exploiting this girl's intense hatred for her was how Moira would gain the upper hand and kill Rose. If she could bait Xiao Long into fighting her alone, that would remove one element. Removing Amari and Holzmann would be simple as well, and that just left her other two friends.

 

Moira steepled her fingers, grinning in the darkness. There were only a few small elements she had to arrange to ensure the plan's success.


	15. Angels Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loss shakes XCOM to its core. Tyson and Blake have a difference of opinion.

Walking through the forests around Mistral, Hannah couldn't help but be reminded of home. Her childhood was full of romps through forests like this, of steep mountains just a stone's throw away, and good, homecooked meals that brought her family together. How she missed China. Everything here reminded her of China, but it was just off enough that it caused a cognitive dissonance in her. It was close, and yet so far at the same time.

 

“Yo, Hannah,” Mike asked, tapping her on her shoulder. “You dere?”

“Yeah,” she said, “what's up?”

Mike shrugged, looking around. “Nothin' so far.”

They continued walking, and suddenly Hannah became aware again of Qrow and Killip in front of them, not caring about what she and Mike were doing. Killip seemed to be checking every leaf for a potential enemy, and Qrow was...well, Qrow. She hadn't known him long, but quickly got the impression that he didn't have a particular care for any cause that wasn't stopping Salem.

“So, you believe what dey're sayin' about Moira?”

“What, that she attacked them? I believe it.”

“No, I mean about workin' with whoever Salem is.”

“Wouldn't be the first time Moira worked with aliens.”

“Salem ain't no alien though,” Mike said, “she's like...some kinda witch or some shit.”

 

Hannah looked at Mike, unsure whether he was making a joke or if he actually believed that. It was hard to tell with Mike sometimes, but that was his charm. How _had_ she become friends with him, anyway? She was a card-carrying member of the Chinese Communist Party, he an all-American kid from Boston. If nothing else, maybe it was just his bizarre ability to find a way to be cocky in every imaginable situation, and still be right.

 

“Eyes forward, butter muffins!” Killip shouted looking back at them.

Hannah and Mike looked forward, not seeing much of anything. The forest was still quiet, save for the calls of wildlife.

“Something's off,” Qrow said, readying his weapon. “Be ready.”

On instinct, Hannah flicked her weapon's safety off, setting it to full-auto. Next to her, she heard Mike do the same. Their steps slowed, until the entire squad had stopped, waiting, listening. Tension filled Hannah's bones as she waited for something, anything, to happen.

“You hear that?” Qrow asked, scanning the scene.

 

Hannah was about to say no, until she heard the roar of what sounded like a bear. Another _yao guai._ She had fought these on patrols before, usually smaller boar-like ones, but this was far different. Qrow usually dispatched them easily, forcing the rest of the team to distract the _yao guai_ while he maneuvered to strike at their weak points.

 

Almost as if on cue, a large bear-like creature broke through the bush, unleashing a terrible cry and charging right at Killip. Thinking quickly, Killip dodged the creature's charge, shooting at it with his shotgun. Even if it didn't seem to do any damage, his shots kept the _yao guai_ 's attention on Killip for a while longer. To keep it distracted, Hannah and Mike both popped off rounds against it, making sure not to hit Qrow as he moved past them. Both she and Mike spent a full magazine keeping the _yao guai_ distracted before Qrow killed it, resetting his weapon as the creature faded away.

 

“Good job, men,” Killip said, reloading his shotgun. “Now let's keep moving!”

Just as they had started to move again, the unmistakeable sound of alien rifle fire crashed through the air, forcing them to take cover.

“Where are they?” Mike asked, desperately loading a new magazine in.

“Left flank!” Killip called out, before standing up and shouting at the aliens. “This is _my world!_ YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN MY WORLD!”

“It's an ambush!” Hannah said, firing on aliens that had appeared to their right.

 

She couldn't focus on anything that wasn't an alien in her sights. She was sure that Qrow was working his way through the aliens, and Mike was probably taking names on his own. Killip...probably was still shouting and cheerily blasting through aliens like no tomorrow. This was supposed to be a simple patrol mission. Why did the aliens have to ambush them _now?_

 

“You sissified maggot scum have just signed your death warrants!”

Yup, that was Killip all right. Even as they were actively falling back for better defensive positions, he still found a way to be forward, killing as much as he could.

“They're flanking from the right!” Qrow said, busy fighting an alien Muton.

“More _yao guai!_ ” Hannah shouted, spotting more incoming enemies.

“Aw, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!”

Hannah turned her attention away from the _yao guai_ to spot what had to be at least an enemy platoon advancing directly to them.

“We're being overwhelmed here!” she shouted.

Right as she had pulled out her Scroll to call the base, she suddenly felt something hit her hard in the chest, making her flinch. What was that?

 

It was warm. It was warm, and it tickled as it made its way down her body in small rivers of crimson red. What an odd sensation. She was dying, but it felt warm and ticklish. She was on her knees, wanting to stand up but couldn't. Her legs, her body, neither of them would move. No, _no_ , _**no,**_ she couldn't die. Wouldn't die. She'd find a way out, survive. _I'm not going out like this,_ Hannah thought, _I just need a little strength. That's not too hard._

 

She couldn't think straight anymore. Everything was a blur. Lying down would be nice. Yeah, let's lie down. She could save her energy that way. She saw Mike come into view, his face just a blur, and his words muffled.

“ _Oh God, Hannah!”_ he shouted. “ _Hannah, talk to me, come on, come on...”_

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Just a small squeak of a breath, something Mike didn't even hear.

_“_ _Hannah,_ _y_ _ou're gonna be alright, you hear me? Just hold on, please.”_ He turned away to look at somebody far away, shouting at them, “ _WHERE'S THE FUCKIN' EVAC, GODDAMMIT?!”_

She was so cold. How she wished she had something to keep her warm, or maybe Mike would hold her close. She didn't feel pain anymore, but she was still so, so, so cold.

_“_ _Hannah,”_ she saw Mike's face, tears falling out of his eyes. _“Don't fucking close your eyes, goddammit, please, just keep your eyes open. You gotta hang on a little bit more, alright?”_

 

_I_ _'ll miss you, Mike._

 

* * *

 

 

Blake had just settled into the common area, ready to get back to a book. Thoughts about the last night's conversation with Tyson swam through her head, breaking her concentration on her book. He had talked about so much, and yet so little at the same time. How was he able to do it? It seemed like everything she wondered about, he had a way to deflect and obfuscate the deeper parts of his past. The more she thought about it, the more she felt maybe he didn't want to say anything yet. She didn't blame him.

 

“Hey, Blake,” he said, suddenly behind her. “Got a minute?”

“Sure,” Blake replied, putting her book away.

Tyson sat opposite of her, resting his leg on his knee. Blake steeled herself, wondering what he wanted to talk about.

“You asked me last night if I missed Earth. My answer ain't changed much, but you deserve to know about Lee.”

“OK,” Blake said, wary. “Who's Lee, then?”

Just as he was about to answer, Killip burst into the common area, kicking the door down and shouting at anyone nearby, “MEDIC, HERE, NOW, ON THE DOUBLE!”

 

Both Blake and Tyson turned to look at him, and his shouts brought the attention of Price, Yang, Weiss and Pyrrha. Somebody called over Tygan, who emerged from the infirmary just as Micheal was running in, carrying...Hannah. Hannah was limp in his arms, and he was covered in blood, panic flush in his face.

 

“Fuckin' get outta my way!” Micheal shouted, heading right for Tygan and the infirmary.

“What happened?” Tygan asked.

“Don't fuckin' ask questions!” Micheal said, “Just, fuckin', I dunno, do your shit and help Hannah, goddammit!”

Tygan led Micheal and Hannah into the infirmary, with Killip and Qrow walking into the common area, both considerably more relaxed than one would assume they should be given the circumstances.

 

“Killip,” Price asked, walking over to him, “What happened out there?”

“Alien ambush, sir,” Killip reported, “Hannah caught a bullet, it appears. I have full confidence Tibban will be able to patch her up in no time.”

“I don't share your optimism,” Qrow said, taking a drink from his flask, “She looked like she lost a lot of blood.”

“Bah,” Killip said, dismissively waving a hand, “Blood's replaceable. Grows back. She'll be fine, sir.”

“I think I'll wait for Tygan's report,” Price said, shaking his head.

 

As he had finished saying that, Micheal burst out from the infirmary. He turned to the interior of it to point at Tygan, shouting, “ _ **Fuck you!**_ ”

Micheal walked away from the infirmary, grabbing his hat and throwing it to the ground in anger. Seeing the multitude of eyes on him, he spread his arms wide as a challenge, yelling as he walked past them to his room, “What're _you_ lookin' at?! Anyone else wanna fuckin' piss me off today, well go right ahead, fucko!”

Without waiting for any kind of response, he headed to his room, slammed the door shut, and for the next hour or so all anyone could hear out of it was screaming, cursing, and the occasional quiet spot.

Tygan emerged not long after Micheal had left, informing those nearby, and eventually the entire headquarters, that Hannah had passed away.

 

* * *

 

 

The news of Hannah's passing had varying effects. Pyrrha and Micheal took it worst of all, having been the closest to her. Pyrrha locked herself in her room, crying for hours with Jaune, Ren and Nora right at her side to comfort her. Micheal aimlessly wandered the halls after his bout of screaming and cursing, not talking to anybody he came across. Yang and Weiss shed their tears, of course, but neither claimed to have known Hannah well. Ana was visibly shaken up by the news, as was Price. Bravo as a whole had mixed reactions. Bradford lamented the loss of another fine soldier to the aliens, and promised to do everything in his power to get Hannah a proper funeral, consulting Wu on Chinese traditions for such a morbid affair.

 

Blake didn't know her long enough to have a real reaction, other than the natural sadness that accompanied the death of someone you knew. Talk began going around of her funeral. Most everyone would be going, as far as Blake knew, aside from maybe Freeman. She wasn't sure where Tyson stood, but she was going anyway, if only to be there for Pyrrha, Weiss and Yang.

 

Tyson waved to her as they swapped guard posts one night, silently hoisting his machine gun onto his shoulder and heading to the ladder.

“Wait,” Blake said, stopping him. “I haven't heard you say anything about it. Are you going to Hannah's funeral?”

Tyson gave her a strange look, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Why should I?”

“What do you mean, ' _why should you'_?” Blake asked, unsure whether he was serious.

“I don't see a compelling reason to.”

“Mourning a fallen fighter isn't a good enough reason?” Blake asked, wondering if she was losing her mind or if he really was this dense.

“Look, Blake,” Tyson said, “I can't take a break just because somebody died. I can't dwell on people who aren't here anymore, I have to move forward.”

“You fuckin' kiddin' me?”

 

Both Blake and Tyson looked around, hearing Micheal's voice but not seeing him. He climbed up the ladder, looking at Tyson, clearly pissed off.

“Is that some kinda fuckin' joke, Holzmann? 'Cause lemme tell ya, it ain't dat fuckin' funny. She fucking _died in my arms._ I didn't get to fuckin' say goodbye to her before she died, you little shitstain. Fuckin' disgrace to the uniform.”

“Watch your mouth, Dudley,” Tyson said. “And step off. I'm not gonna fight you over this.”

“Yeah, I didn't think so. Fuck you, dude. Ain't so hot when you ain't got your Ranger buddies to back you up, huh?”

“Dudley,” Tyson warned, “last chance. Go get some sleep.”

 

Micheal shook his head, tossing a flippant middle finger at Tyson before heading down the ladder. Blake made sure he had left earshot, and then looked at Tyson like he was insane, furrowing her brow and frowning.

“What the hell _is_ your deal, anyway?” Blake asked. “Hannah's _dead_ and you don't care!”

“You wanna know why I don't care?” Tyson retorted. “Look around you, Blake! Everyone here signed up to fight the aliens knowing they'd die!”

“That doesn't mean you get to be an asshole!”

“You don't get it, do you?” Tyson said. “ _I'm already dead!_ ”

 

Blake took a step back, her anger replaced by concern as her eyes grew wide. Nobody said anything or moved for several moments. Blake's agape mouth soon closed, and she rushed forward, hugging Tyson. Not anticipating this reaction, Tyson stood still, before shoving Blake off him.

“Get off me,” he said. “You can't make this better with a hug and a motivational speech, Blake.”

“You don't get to say something like that to me and push me away!” Blake shouted, tears forming in her eyes. “Don't say things like that, dammit!”

“I accepted I was dead the minute I agreed to fight, Blake. For me, there was _never_ a question of 'if'. It was _always_ 'when'.”

“Stop being such a selfish prick and think about others, for once in your life!”

“Then I guess all the things I told you about my life were just in one ear, out the other, huh?”

“They _weren't_!” Blake said. “You've lost people, well guess what, we've _all_ lost people! You're the only one here who's cynical about it all!”

 

Blake stopped shouting for a moment, stepping closer. She tried to hold back her tears, but it was impossible. She began to softly cry, keeping her head down.

“That's no way to live. You can't keep doing that to yourself.”

“Oh, yeah, it's my fucking fault the aliens decided to kill everyone I know and love. Yeah, I totally brought that on myself.”

“That's not what I'm saying and you know it.”

“Whatever,” Tyson said, throwing his arms up in frustration. “I need to go cool off or something. See you around, Belladonna.”

 

Dammit.

 

He had gone back to using her last name.

 

* * *

 

 

Honestly, Blake wasn't sure whether Tyson was out of his mind or if he was just so callous, so uncaring, he really had this little empathy left. The entire ordeal just made her more and more pissed off at him. She had every reason to be, at this point. Who did he think he was, disregarding the death of a comrade in arms? Just throwing away their memory like it was garbage? Who did he think he was, saying something so explosive as “I'm already dead” to her? Did he _want_ to push her away? Was he changing his mind on what he had talked about in that kitchen? Or was it ever real in the first place, was this all just some kind of sick, demented test?

 

Maybe sleep would help. Maybe, just maybe, she could fall asleep, and get away from this foolish boy, if just for a little while. Like always, her bed was soft and warm, comforting. Just what she needed right now.


	16. The Stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah's funeral is a somber affair for all involved. Blake learns something about Tyson.

Staccato burst. Another one. Two more. Then a long one.

 

That was machine gun fire.

 

Where was she?

 

A forest. Dark. Ominous. Rain everywhere. The sound of the machine gun echoed in the night.

 

She headed towards it, trying to find the source. Tyson. He was fighting something, some _one._ Who? Where were they?

 

Laughter. Not happy. Sinister. Moira. Orbs everywhere. Strange language she didn't understand. Instinct – get weapon. Where was it? Gambol Shroud wasn't on her.

 

Assess. Tyson fighting. Moira in play. No weapon. Where's everyone else?

 

_Géill do mo thoil!_

 

Moira's strange energy. Tyson hit. She wasn't. Moira's gone now, with her ray.

 

 

 

Tyson on fire.

 

At Beacon, the night of the fall. Fire everywhere. Adam.

 

Adam.

 

He's talking, but no sound. Tyson's clothes burn, making him scream. _“Why?”_ he asks, _“Why won't you help me?”_

 

Ruby. Weiss. Yang. Jaune. Ren. Nora. Pyrrha. Flailing in front of her, flames licking at them.

 

_“_ _Why won't you help us?”_

 

Tyson grabs her shoulders, staring into her eyes as features melt away.

 

_“_ _Do you feel like a hero yet?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Blake shot upright, panting heavily. She looked around, touching anything and everything she could, trying to confirm to herself that this was all real. So far, that seemed to be the case, but looks could be deceiving. Blake looked to Ruby and Weiss's bunk – they were gone, and it was daylight outside. Okay, probably a good sign. Let's slow down the breathing first. Longer, deliberate breaths.

 

Yang dropped down next to her, spooking Blake and causing her to jump. She could see concern in Yang's face.

“Hey, Blake,” she said apprehensively, “you, like, screamed when you woke up. Everything alright?”

Blake slowed down her breathing again, trying to get a grip on herself as she slowly said, “Bad dream. I was back at Beacon.”

“Ouch, those are rough. Wanna talk about it?”

“You were all on fire.”

“Say what now?”

“You, Ruby, Weiss, Jaune, all of you,” Blake said. “On fucking fire.”

 

Yang didn't say anything for a while, simply sliding next to her. It was...oddly comforting. Blake didn't know why just having Yang next to her was helping, but it was. Her breathing had returned to normal now, and the stress she had upon waking up was now gone, replaced by tranquility. She should get some tea later, that would help too.

 

“I heard you and Tyson yelling at each other last night,” Yang confessed.

“Oh God, not this.”

“Look,” Yang said, “I don't care what you do in your own time, alright? I didn't _want_ to hear it, but I did anyway.”

“You probably think I'm an idiot, don't you?”

“What?” Yang asked. “Why would I think that?”

Blake sighed, saying, “Because I'm getting involved with this idiot, and I don't even know if either of us will survive this war.”

“If Weiss and I can survive Earth without Aura, we can sure as hell survive here. They're on _our_ turf now.”

“Okay,” Blake said. “That's inspirational, but it's not an answer.”

“I can't judge you for doing what you think is right, Blake.”

 

Blake sighed again. Alright, so Yang definitely knew she and Tyson had an argument last night. No big deal. She probably suspected they were exploring the idea anyway. She didn't remember saying anything committal last night to him, nor he to her, so...maybe they were in the clear? Maybe Yang still didn't know what they had going on?

 

“Blake,” Yang said, staring straight forward, “you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Huh?” Blake asked. “Uh. Yeah, yeah, I know that.”

“Good. Because I'd hate for you to get too deep into this and not have anyone to talk to.”

Blake raised an eyebrow, asking, “Too deep into _what,_ exactly?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“No, I don't, actually.”

“Fine,” Yang sighed. “I mean this business with Tyson. I'm not gonna tell you to stay away or some shit, but just...be careful, okay? I don't want to see you get hurt by him, because if you _do,_ I'm probably gonna hurt him even worse.”

“Who else knows?”

“Weiss suspects something, but I don't think she's thinking on the lines we are.”

 

Blake sighed again. Less than ideal, but at least Weiss wouldn't talk to people about it. She wondered who else knew. Ruby probably didn't. Nora might know something, but Blake didn't believe she would connect the pieces to Tyson. Whatever. It wasn't healthy for her to keep dwelling on things like this.

 

At that same time, though, that damned dream kept haunting her throughout the day. It was a quiet day, good and bad. Good because the dream wouldn't have her distracted in the field. Bad because it gave her all the time in the world to think about it. She wondered if there was any point to what her mind had conjured up, whether anything she had seen or heard had any relevance in the world. Why would she dream about all of her friends on fire, and Tyson too, if there wasn't some sort of meaning behind it?

 

Maybe helping prepare for Hannah's funeral would keep these thoughts at bay. Maybe they wouldn't, and she was just wishfully thinking for it all be be okay. It was hard to tell some days. Everything was fucked. They still hadn't received word from other continents, telling of alien invasions. Maybe it was just limited to Mistral for now, but why? Nobody had a good answer for why the aliens would bother with just one continent.

 

Hours passed until it was time for Hannah's funeral to start. Micheal was first in, standing next to her coffin, unmoving. Blake could have sworn she heard him crying, but wasn't about to go up to confirm it. Others began moving in, slowly at first, until soon enough the entire colorful roster of people in the headquarters had arrived.

 

Except, of course, Tyson and Freeman. Nobody seriously expected Freeman to show up, but Tyson's conspicuous absence was noted by many. It didn't matter much to Blake now, she had to be here for Pyrrha, who was alternating between crying and staring at the ground in shock. The officers traded stories about Hannah, honoring her memory as a solid fighter and friend to all. Killip went on record that she was one of the finest soldiers he ever had.

 

The door opened, then closed. Somebody had come back in, but Blake didn't see who.

“Hey,” Tyson said, heading into the room where they had gathered.

All eyes turned on him, a mix of irritated and glad looks. Blake sighed, looking at him from across the room. He returned her look, shrugging, then headed right to Micheal, who was exceedingly pissed off. As the two locked eyes, that anger went away as they embraced.

“I'm sorry, Mike,” Tyson quietly said, “she didn't deserve this.”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

“You all good?”

“Nah, not even close. She always wanted to go back to China, y'know?”

“I'm sure she's there now.”

 

Tyson paid his respects, mouthing to Blake as he left he wanted to talk to her later. While brief, his visit was at least a kind gesture, even if he and Micheal had almost come to blows the other night. What was with him? What made him come to the funeral?

 

The rest of the event was as to be expected. Wu raised a glass in Hannah's honor, reciting a Chinese proverb that he translated to mean, “All of life is a dream walking, all of death is going home”. Price suggested this be put on her tombstone, to which most present agreed. Ana prayed for Hannah's soul, an act that Weiss, Pyrrha and Yang informed Blake was common at these sorts of events.

 

Just as slowly as they arrived, the crew and soldiers began to filter out, until just Micheal, Pyrrha, Jaune, Ren, Nora, herself, Yang, Weiss and Ruby were left. Pyrrha and Micheal had scarcely moved from their original positions, each beside themselves in grief. Soon enough, Ren and Nora left, thinking it wise to let Pyrrha have some time to herself. Ruby and Weiss followed not long after, using the same excuse.

 

“Do you think you'll be alright now, Pyrrha?” Jaune asked, clasping her shoulder.

“Well, she's gone now, Jaune,” Pyrrha replied. “I just wish I could have said goodbye.”

“But you are,” Blake said. “This is what this is for, Pyrrha.”

“I know, I mean...before she...”

“We all wish we had more time,” Yang said. “You were a good friend to her, Pyrrha.”

“Y'know,” Micheal said, “she talked about you guys a lot.”

“Huh?”

“You and Weiss,” Micheal said, turning away to face Yang. “After you guys left. She wished you guys could have stayed.”

“We couldn't, though,” Yang pointed out. “We had to be back here.”

“Yeah, we knew. She just...I dunno, she really wanted to see you guys at peace for once. She waned to teach you Chinese, show you her home. What was left of it, anyway.”

 

Yang's eyes teared up. Blake found herself getting teary-eyed as well.

“Fucking dammit,” Yang said quietly, “I did so well, too. Why'd you have to tell me that, you idiot?”

“It was something she would've wanted you to know. I know she never got a chance to on the Avenger.”

“I need to – I just – fuck.” Whatever Yang had wanted to say was lost as she began crying, leaving the room. Blake quickly followed, making sure her friend was okay.

 

She found Yang in the hallway, slumped against the floor and softly crying. Blake sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her.

“It's OK,” she said, “you were strong for everyone. It's your turn now.”

Blake let Yang cry, not able to say or do anything else other than just be there for her. She wasn't sure how long they spent there, but it didn't really matter. Blake had to be there for Yang. That's all that mattered now.

“OK,” Yang finally said. “I'm good now. Thanks, Blake. Really.”

“Don't worry about it.”

 

One crisis dealt with. Another awaited. She hadn't forgotten Tyson wanted to talk to her.

 

* * *

 

 

She found him near the armory, inspecting weapons and ammo as per usual. He had a clipboard in one hand, using the other to interact with things as necessary for his inspections. Blake knocked on the doorframe, and he waved her in, quickly returning to his work once he saw who it was.

 

“You wanted to talk to me?” Blake asked, folding her arms. He wasn't quite off the hook yet.

“Yeah,” he said. “I...I need to tell you some things.”

“Can you make it quick? I'm still not sure how Weiss is handling Hannah's death.”

“Might wanna take a raincheck on that,” Tyson said, putting the clipboard away and facing her. “I have a lot to talk about.”

“I'm listening,” she said, leaning against the wall.

He nodded, almost grateful if she didn't know better. “I can't undo the day, but I can apologize. I was out of line the other night. I'm sorry for that.”

“Is that it?”

“Twenty years ago, before the aliens invaded, before XCOM, before the Army, my best friend was Lee. I met her though her brother, another one of my best friends. She and I knew everything about each other. You name it, we knew it, even shit most people probably don't know about their friends, we knew about. If I was acting like an idiot, she'd be first to tell me.”

“Sounds like more than just a friend to me,” Blake said, frowning.

“Yeah. We thought about the idea of dating. We never did for a lot of reasons, either she'd have somebody already or I'd be too involved in the militia or the Army to do anything. Point is, she and I were tailor-made for each other. I don't know how many nights I spent talking to her, either to help her out with something or just to catch up.”

 

Blake sighed. This was less a real answer and more just a monologue.

“Do you have a point to all this, or…?”

“I'm getting to it,” he said, annoyed. “She cried when she found out I was joining the Army. Not because I had gotten myself arrested and coerced into it, but because she didn't want to see me risk getting hurt. She thought I should have just taken jail time.”

He took a deep breath, looking at the ground.

“I told her there was nothing to worry about. That I wouldn't get hurt. Cue alien invasion. I joined XCOM first chance I got, but I couldn't tell her about it since back then, it was top-secret. For all she knew, I was still just a grunt. Then...then the aliens decided to start burning down cities.”

 

“What do you mean,” Blake asked, “ _start_ burning down cities? I thought they already did that?”

“No, not during the war. I didn't know it had happened when I was fighting with XCOM. I got leave one week, and I headed home. To my family, to Lee, everyone I grew up with. I got home and I found it gone. Just like that, a city of 115,000 people, all gone. The aliens had piled up the bodies into these huge pits to just be burned.”

“Oh my God,” she said, stepping closer. “I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Tyson...”

“Everyone I knew was dead. Lee, her brother, my parents, my brothers and sisters, all my friends. I spent the next decade flipping between wanting to shoot every alien in sight, or waking up and feeling like I should just eat my gun and end it all there.”

 

Blake spent a few moments trying to figure what “eat my gun” meant until Tyson clued her in by miming the act with his hand. She quietly gasped when she saw what he meant. Suicide.

“The only reason I didn't do that was because each time I tried, I saw Lee standing in front of me, asking me what the fuck I thought I was doing. It seemed easy to rationalize to her – hey, if I do this, I can be with you again. I won't have to live in this hell every waking moment. She'd just shake her head, call me an idiot, and tell me to stop being so fucking stupid and keep moving forward.”

 

“Do you...do you still think that way now?” Blake asked cautiously, well aware she was stepping into a veritable minefield.

“No,” Tyson replied. “Like I told you last night, I'm already dead. I accepted it after I saw Athens razed. You wanna know why I really keep that journal? It's so I can remember. Everyone in there, I can see their faces, for the most part. I'm...I'm losing Lee's face. I don't remember it anymore.”

She saw visible tears start to come out of Tyson's eyes, and she stepped closer, rubbing his shoulder in a vain attempt to reassure him it was alright.

“I can't remember her fucking face anymore, and that scares the shit out of me, because once I forget her face, I forget _her._ I already forgot half my brothers, my parents, the guys I went to boot camp with. People that I said I'd never forget I've already lost.”

 

Tyson pinched the bridge of his nose, for the moment drying his tears and taking a deep breath, steeling himself. He lightly brushed Blake's hand away.

“So, that's why I'm such a callous dickwad,” he said without a hint of irony. “I don't want to forget Hannah. If I see her body, then that's it. She'll be gone by tomorrow.”

“You're not callous,” she said softly. “You're afraid. I...I really wish I could make this better for you.”

“That's very much appreciated,” Tyson said. “I think I'd just like to be alone now. Thanks for listening, Blake.”

 

Sensing she should leave, Blake left Tyson alone, closing the door behind her as she left. Once the door clicked shut, she could hear him softly crying, doing his best to make it so nobody could hear.


	17. Dachschaden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another alien ambush. Yang confronts Moira for the last time.

Tyson wasn't sure why he had admitted everything to Blake. Maybe it was a karmic punishment for him, a way for him to atone after his colossal string of fuck-ups leading up to that night on guard duty. Or, perhaps more likely, he just didn't want to be alone when his time came, and maybe, just maybe, if she survived longer than he, somebody would miss him when he was gone.

 

And of course, the hidden third option was that he was going bonkers yet again, and was no longer in control of his mental faculties.

 

Either way, two days passed after Hannah's funeral, where all was quiet. Once again, their brief reprieve had been rudely interrupted by more alien sightings, sending Misfit, Delta, Echo, and Bravo across all corners of the continent. The aliens had grown bolder and bolder, deploying ever increasing force sizes. Where one of XCOM's squads would usually face a platoon, they now faced up to a company-sized element of aliens. No longer were the aliens even concerned with being subtle now – sectopods and Archons were now common sights, bringing terror to the uninitiated citizens of Remnant, wondering what these horrific sights before them were.

 

It was all a job to him. All that mattered was killing as many aliens as possible. Another day, another alien sighting they had to deal with, lest the aliens occupy an entire settlement. It was one of these such calls that Tyson and the rest of Echo found themselves in the wilderness once more, venturing out to counter another alien incursion.

 

The reports claimed the aliens had brought down no less than four squads of Mutons, a pack of Berserkers, and god-knows how many Vipers, regular troopers, and Sectoids. Nothing specific other than “we saw aliens here, please kill them”. Typical for such adventures. Tyson had by now grown used to working with relatively little intel, a prospect he didn't find favorable.

 

The forests and plains eventually brought them to a small, abandoned settlement some distance south of Mistral itself, far beyond any reasonable expectation of support. It smelled like an ambush, something Tyson immediately let Amari know of the second he got a chance to. She acknowledged it – but sometimes you needed to spring an ambush, she said, it's what the enemy expects.

 

“Standard S&D mission,” Tyson announced as they headed into the settlement, “Check your corners. I don't want to get shot in the back by some random trooper.”

“We've done this hundreds of times,” Schnee reminded him, “Both in the field and in the classroom. I think we can handle it.”

“That building looks stable enough for me to climb,” Amari noted, pointing towards a three-story tower, “I'll see you children later.”

With that, Amari took off, slinging her rifle over her shoulder to allow her to use both hands to climb up the tower, or what was left of it anyway. Tyson wondered how she had assessed it was safe to climb, but figured that was better left to Amari to worry about.

 

Ten minutes of searching brought nothing. Their standard search and destroy technique had yielded no results thus far. Had the aliens already moved on? The other members of Echo looked just as confused as Tyson felt. Where were the aliens? Even with their psionic network controlling their orders, they couldn't have gotten that large a force on the move so fast.

 

As they conferred with each other in the ruins of a town square, unfamiliar bootsteps crunched across the way. Immediately, Tyson aimed his weapon at the noise, with others following suit. It was...somebody. Who he was Tyson didn't recognize, but he was tall, dark-skinned, and dressed in simple clothing. Whoever he was, he didn't look thrilled to see them.

 

“Identify yourself!” Tyson challenged.

“Nobody needs to die today,” he said, raising his hands, “I just need one thing from you folks.”

“Wait, I know you,” Schnee said, stepping forward, “You're working with Salem. Don't you dare take another step towards us.”

“And if you'll just hear me out-”

“We're not interested,” Xiao Long said, adding to the line of weapons drawn, “Go tell Moira she's a dead woman walking.”

“Who the hell is this clown?” Tyson asked, looking for an answer.

“Hazel,” Schnee quickly explained, “Works with Salem, he doesn't feel pain. Taking him down will be hard.”

 

Hazel sighed, putting his hands down and shaking his head.

“Alright,” he said, “You can tell Moira yourself.”

Her cackling arrived before she did, appearing behind them, no doubt ready to inflict pain upon them again.

“How nice to see you're all back in the field,” she crooned, “Time to finish the job.”

“We can handle this,” Ana reminded the squad, “It's just two of them. Pin down Moira, and do everything necessary to take down this Hazel.”

 

“Which one of you wants to tango first?” Tyson shouted, challenging either of their two foes.

Moira took the bait first, casting forth orbs as per usual, fading away to close the distance. Xiao Long, anticipating this, maneuvered herself to intercept and delivered a hearty blow as Moira headed in, knocking her off balance for a moment.

 

Hazel too charged, heading right for Schnee and Rose, leaving Belladonna to support them. Amari was keeping Moira moving with sniper fire. Apart from the obvious difficulty in pinning down Moira and trying to figure out how to subdue Hazel, it seemed to be in Echo's favor.

 

At least, it was until the aliens arrived.

 

Squads of aliens had been hiding in wait, finding their opportunity to pop out and join the fray. Alien rifle fire mixed with Tyson's MG3 as they alternatively fired upon him and the other members of Echo, trying to keep all of them off balance and on the defensive. Orders and callouts from each member were lost in a mix of shouting, gunfire and general chaos as alien grenades detonated dangerously close to them, destroying cover and wrecking an already half-destroyed scene.

 

Without much rationale, Moira withdrew, heading to an alleyway. Tyson could already see what she was trying to do – lure them into a narrow passage where she could more easily damage them with whatever the fuck her ray was. Xiao Long didn't seem to get this memo, raging with hatred and immediately following.

 

“Fucking goddammit, Xiao Long!” Tyson shouted, “We need you here!”

She didn't care, flipping him off as she ran after Moira.

“Fuck!” he shouted again, informing Amari and the others, “Xiao Long broke off to fight Moira, I'm going to help her! Cover me!”

The questions from others were lost as he began headed over to the alley where the pair had disappeared to, ducking and weaving in between alien fire in a desperate bid to keep himself alive in his journey over there.

 

Until a sudden flash blinded him and stopped him cold.

 

* * *

 

 

Where was he?

 

This wasn't where they were before. This was different. New place. Built up, not abandoned, not yet anyway.

 

_Pacify her._

 

It sounded like thousands, no, millions, of voices all speaking at once. Who was that?

 

_You don't really love her._

 

Blake. She was the only thing he could really see in this mess, the others a distant blur. Was she frozen? Was _he_ frozen? He couldn't tell.

 

He had a pistol, aimed right for Blake's head. Where had it come from? He didn't carry this model. He pulled his hand away, only for it to snap right back like a bad horror film. What was going on? No, he couldn't shoot her, wouldn't. She had proven herself. She could be trusted.

 

Suddenly, fire everywhere. The entire area was on fire, the buildings, the walls, people.

 

And so was he.

 

The fire didn't hurt, but the visceral reaction to suddenly seeing oneself on fire tends to be panic, which is what he did. He looked around for help. Rose, Schnee, Xiao Long, the people from JNPR, they were all on fire like him.

 

But Blake wasn't.

 

He rushed over to her, grabbing her shoulders. She looked scared, probably for good reason. He could hear the others, demanding to know why she wasn't helping them.

 

“Help me,” he said, but it was so quiet he almost couldn't hear himself over the crackling of the fire. She just stared back at him, eyes wide as dinner plates, frozen in fear.

 

Slowly, she looked him over, and her mouth began to move. He didn't hear words at first, but slowly the sentence reached his ears.

 

_“_ _Do you feel like a hero yet?”_

 

* * *

 

 

“Come out and fucking fight me!” Yang yelled, standing in the alley Moira had disappeared behind.

She couldn't take it anymore. Everything Moira had ever done, ever wanted to do, Yang felt it a personal attack on her now. Who cared what their orders were? Yang only had one thing in mind now, and that was killing Moira. She didn't deserve to live. She didn't even deserve a clean death. Yang would make sure of it.

 

“So proud,” Moira taunted, appearing in front of her, “so cocksure. When will you realize failure is all that awaits you?”

Yang didn't say anything in response. There was no need to. Moira was going to die, _right now_ , and nobody could stop it. Yang had seen Moira's style before. Moira probably hoped that, by playing to Yang's anger, trying to keep her unbalanced and distracted, she would have an advantage. But, she didn't know Yang had trained for exactly such a thing. Her anger wasn't blind rage, like it would have been at Beacon, no, it was a focus, a cold anger that made her hyperaware of every small sound. Each step Moira took, each sleight of hand she attempted, Yang was tracking. Yang had timed in her head how long Moira would fade, where she liked to go, her rehearsed attacks.

 

Moira had made a mistake, underestimating Yang. Even through the pain, which was constant thanks to Moira's bizarre decaying attacks, Yang was close to her opportunity. Just one more fade. _Come on_ , she thought, _I dare you. I fucking dare you._ She faded. Perfect. Predictably, Moira tried to fade behind her, but Yang was waiting for her, grabbing her by the collar as she became corporeal and delivering a punch right to her face, sending her through the building and into the square, knocking down several aliens and destroying what remained of the square's statue with her.

 

Fighting still raged on in the square, but it didn't matter. They had it handled. Yang would handle Moira. Ignoring the aliens firing at her, Yang calmly walked toward Moira. Despite hearing Ana plead with her to let her live, Yang grabbed Moira again. The woman looked up at Yang, cracking a smile even as she bled.

 

“Biology's habits are hard to break,” Moira said.

Yang never dignified her with a response. She raised her fist, punching her again and again and again and again until there was barely anything left to punch. Around her, she heard the sound of alien gunfire die down until all was quiet again. She stood up, stepping back to look upon what remained of Moira.

 

Yang looked down at her hand, covered in blood. Thankfully, not her own. It was done. She had finally killed Moira, and taken out the single largest threat to her team next to Salem. A wave of relief passed over her, like a great weight had just been taken off her shoulders. Yang felt a hand on said shoulder – it was Weiss.

 

“That's it,” Yang said, sighing. “We're finally done with her.”

“You know we're far from finished, though.”

“I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

“Hey!” Blake called from across the way. “I hate to break up the celebration, but we have a problem here!”

 

Yang and Weiss turned to her. She was kneeling next to Tyson, who had seemingly collapsed. Was he wounded? She didn't see any blood. She, Weiss, Ruby and Ana headed over to him, trying to assess his condition. He was lying flat on his back, staring at the sky. Silently, he muttered words, but nobody could tell what he was saying.

 

“How long has he been like this?” Ana asked, trying to get him to react to something.

“I don't know,” Blake answered,.“What's wrong with him?”

“It's hard to tell. We'll have to keep him safe for a little while longer.”

Ana immediately called for an evacuation, which was granted. The two-hour long wait for their ride was the most excruciating wait Yang had to ever endure. The entire time, Blake was over Tyson, trying to help in any way she could. It was something everyone took notice of. How could they not?

 

“Yang,” Weiss said, drawing her away from the others, “are you sure you still can't talk about whatever they have going on?”

“Don't let Blake kill me if she hears I told you, alright?”

“Do we really have time to worry about that right now?  
“I don't know, Weiss,” Yang said. “Look, all I know is Tyson said he had feelings for her, and Blake was thinking about exploring the idea of him, okay? Happy now?”

“I think she's moved past thinking. Is she insane?”

“Now is _not_ the time, Weiss. How about we make sure he's okay before we go judging, alright?”

“Fine,” Weiss said coldly.

 

All they could do now was hope that, upon their return, Tyson was alright.


	18. Dark Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyson is brought back to headquarters. Blake's friends confront her about her relationship with Tyson.

Their return to headquarters was marked by silence. Other than Ana informing Tygan what had happened, the halls were silent. Blake was barely even aware of any sounds. Footsteps, people talking, the doors opening and closing, not even the menagerie of noises in the medical wing she could hear. Was this shock? She had never seen anything like this before. Judging by the looks of others, except Ruby, maybe they had?

 

After a while, Tygan had concluded his exam, and approached the squad outside the medical bay to appraise them of the situation. They had taken to waiting on the provided bench for any news, as Tygan and his staff requested room to work with little interference.

“Ladies,” Tygan said, readjusting his glasses, “the good news is that the Lieutenant is suffering from an extreme case of alien mindspin.”

“Wait,” Blake asked, unfamiliar with the term, “what's 'mindspin'? Is that good or bad?”

Tygan cleared his throat, and began to explain, “Mindspin is the term we gave to a wide group of Sectoid psionic attacks, ranging from confusion, disorientation, panic, to hallucinations. That's the bad news. It would appear Lieutenant Holzmann is experiencing a particularly intense hallucination, one he can't seem to free himself from on his own.”

 

“What options do we have, Doctor?” Ana asked.

“Truthfully, our options are limited. With other patients, I would consult their background and psychological profile to tailor a response to the alien psionic attack, but with Lieutenant Holzmann…”

“Nobody knew him well enough,” Ana filled in, “and he knew the right answers for a profile.”

“Yes,” Tygan answered. “Hopefully, with the Sectoid outside of its psionic range, the effects will be short-lived. I can't be sure, however. We've rarely had to deal with anyone suffering a mindspin attack this long-lasting.”

“So, what,” Yang asked, “we just sit around and hope for the best?”

“No,” Ana said. “We keep moving forward. He wouldn't want us to sit around and wait for him when there's a war on.”

“If it would make any of you feel better,” Tygan added, noting the dismayed looks among RWBY, “it may help for some of you to speak to him. The sounds of familiar voices could have a positive effect in disrupting the delusion ongoing in his mind. That is, however, only a hypothesis.”

 

Ana thanked Tygan for the offer, but at the moment, she said, they had more important matters to attend to. The debriefing, for one. Word had already reached the headquarters that Moira had been terminated, and there were already plenty of questions. Blake could sense that Ana was disappointed that they hadn't been able to capture her alive, to interrogate her on the whereabouts of Salem and her followers. Qrow and Ozpin spoke in hushed voices as they walked past the two to report to Price and the Commander. No doubt they too were lamenting the loss of the one person who might be able to tell them everything.

 

The debriefing was less formal than Blake was expecting, given they _had_ just killed a clear member of Salem's inner circle. The Commander was understandably regretful that Moira had to be slain, but rationalized that she had left them no choice. By attacking them, she said, she had sealed her own fate. Minor questions followed concerning the man who was with her, how they were able to lead the aliens into a near-perfect ambush. Something about the entire affair struck Blake as odd, though.

 

_“_ _I did what I had to do.”_

That was the line Yang kept repeating to the Commander, when pressed on why she had killed Moira outright instead of attempting to subdue her or bring her into custody. Did she really believe it? Or was that a lie Yang was telling herself to cover up the fact she had murdered somebody in cold blood, and didn't look back for a second? She scarcely had time to even try to wash away Moira's blood that stained her clothes, the voice of a dead woman crying out against her, damning Yang for her crime.

 

Yang had changed, Blake thought, and she wasn't sure if it was for the better. She could tell the others saw it. Ruby seemed almost afraid of the woman Yang had become, and Weiss only stood next to her for as long as necessary. Did Yang see it? Was Yang aware that she had changed, and was pushing away her friends and family? Or was this a temporary thing, something that would only last until Moira's body had been truly removed from this planet?

 

The squad was dismissed back to their quarters, and since by now night had fallen, Blake couldn't find a better time to get some rest. It had been too long a day, and for what little gains they made, she hoped it was all worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Once again she found herself in a forest. There was no machine gun fire, no Moira, just a sense of calm and tranquility. Was there anyone else? She couldn't tell.

 

She began to hear something. A voice. Who was it? It was familiar. She eventually figured out it was Tyson, singing. She had never heard him sing before. Like a siren's song, she found herself drawn to the sound of his voice, bringing her deeper and deeper into the trees until she found him.

 

_“_ _And would you tell her_ _,”_ he sang, wandering around the forest aimlessly. _“_ _Not to talk as if I died? Though a tiny part just did, and would you tell her, I'm from a long line of survivors_ _.”_

“Tyson?” Blake called out.

He turned to look at her, pausing in his song. He looked almost embarrassed, but headed to meet her halfway regardless.

“Hey, Blake,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Guess you heard that, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “It was nice.”

“Ah, wasn't nothing special.”

“Are you coming back?” she asked. “To help fight, I mean.”

He shrugged, saying, “I don't really know.”

 

Blake looked down, suddenly sad.

“Oh.” she said flatly.

“Don't worry, Blake,” he said, before going back to song, walking away from her. “ _I bounce these feelings off the moon, the echoes don't come back. You've gone, gone and made a beautiful hole in my heart.”_

And like that, he faded as his words echoed away, and suddenly she was alone again. The once peaceful forest was now cold and oppressive, and she felt incredibly tiny now. Each tree trunk seemed a thousand miles wide, endlessly tall, and large, dark leaves obscured her view of the sky.

 

* * *

 

 

She awoke to find Yang, Weiss and Ruby all milling around, waiting for her to wake up. They clearly had something on their minds. What other reason did they have to be there unless it was to talk to her?

“Oh good,” Weiss said, “you're up.”

“Uh, hey,” Blake muttered, halfway between groggy and confused. “What's going on?”

“Again, for the record,” Yang declared, “not my idea.”

“What wasn't?”

“Blake,” Weiss said, folding her hands in her lap and looking concerned, “we're worried about you.”

“What?” she asked. “Why?”

“We saw you hanging over Tyson when he went down,” Ruby explained.

 

Blake's eyes went wide. Fuck. She really _had_ stayed by his side the entire time, hadn't she? What was she thinking? Did she ever think at all after that battle?

“W-well,” Blake stammered, “I...I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Blake, really,” Yang said, shaking her head. “Do you have to keep up this facade?”

Blake narrowed her eyes, glaring at Yang. “What did you tell them?”

“Only what I knew.”

 

She sighed. They weren't going to let her walk away from this, huh?

“Alright,” Blake finally said. “I guess I'll just say it. Tyson and I are...maybe a thing? I don't know.”

“How can you not _know?_ ” Weiss asked.

“Because it's not always clear and simple with him, alright?”

“What changed?” Ruby asked. “What did he do that made you change your view?”

Blake was at a loss for words. Truthfully, she couldn't explain it. How could she? She had never thought of him in any way other than as a collection of red flags up until he told her what he did. It was all just a blur, a spur of the moment deal. One day she thought nothing of him, and now...it was like the world wasn't so dark anymore. If even for a little while, there was a light that made it less bleak.

 

“I don't know,” she said, finally. “It just...happened, I guess.”

“Wow,” Weiss said, clearly not impressed. “How insightful.”

“Look, if I knew how to say it, I would, alright?”

“Just...walk us through it, I guess,” Yang said, shrugging.

Blake sighed. She wasn't thrilled about having to relay all this to them.

“Alright, well, I guess you guys know he talked to me alone after they brought Adam in. Tyson told me he wasn't planning on telling me how he felt until that moment. I was pissed at first, thinking he was joking or something.”

 

“I suppose that's reasonable,” Weiss said. “Did he ever say _why_ he felt this way?”

“No,” Blake answered, “I still don't really know. I tried to find out everything I could about him, but he's like a ghost. Nobody knows anything other than bits and pieces. Just...talk about somewhere called Athens and being a Ranger.”

“Wait, Athens?” Yang asked, “that's where we found Pyrrha.”

“I think it's a different one. Micheal said he got really weird whenever they went to Georgia.”

“I don't get it,” Ruby said. “What's different about him now? You said you thought he was joking.”

“Yeah. I did, until we got raided. When the aliens raided us and broke Adam free, you got thrown against a wall by that alien, Ruby. And Qrow was wounded.”

“Oh yeah,” Ruby said, suddenly remembering. “He made sure I was okay before he got back to fighting.”

“And he helped Qrow get to the med bay,” Blake filled in. “He didn't have to do either of those things. He could have just kept shooting, but he didn't. I was worried he was like Adam, just some sociopath who didn't care about anything unless it helped him. But helping you, Qrow? He doesn't want to see anyone else get hurt. He won't leave us behind.”

 

“You could tell all that just from five minutes on a battlefield?” Weiss asked, clearly not buying what Blake was selling.

“He told me,” she said. “He told me all about the code he has to uphold, _did_ uphold on Earth. Everything he stood for on Earth is gone now, the only people who can tell you what the United States is are the people who call themselves Americans. He can throw it all away and claim he's a new person, but he's not.”

Weiss's face twisted in confusion, asking her, “So just because he's keeping old traditions, that makes him a good person now?”

“Imagine if everything we knew was taken away from us, and we had to rebuild our lives on Earth. Would you still claim to be a Huntress? Would you keep everything that made you close, or try to fit into wherever you ended up?”

“They _tried_ to do that for me,” Weiss retorted. “Ludwig wanted to teach me German. He told me I _was_ German. He put on me an entire culture I didn't know anything about. We wouldn't have had a choice.”

“Who's Ludwig?” Blake and Ruby asked almost simultaneously.

 

Weiss's face drained of all color, and she looked down, depressed. Yang stepped over, sighing and putting a hand on Weiss's shoulder in a vain effort to comfort her. Weiss sniffled, and Blake could tell that, even if she wasn't aware of it, she had accidentally hit a nerve.

“Ludwig,” Yang explained, “was one of Menace 1-5's members. He...he was weird, but he was a good person. If he wasn't on the Avenger, I don't know if Weiss would have survived.”

Blake didn't need any further explanation as to why he wasn't fighting alongside them now. No doubt he had perished at some point before XCOM had been forcibly evacuated from Earth.

“I mean,” Ruby said. “Both of you have a point. I don't disagree with Blake, Tyson doesn't _have_ to keep doing what he does. But I don't know if I could keep everything that makes us Huntresses if we lost Remnant.”

“Thank you, Ruby,” Blake said.

“Look,” Yang said, “I don't judge you, Blake. You do what you think is right, I won't stop you. I just want you to be careful.”

“Alright,” Weiss said, recovered. “I don't understand it, _yet_ , but I suppose if you believe in it so strongly, I have no right to question it.”

“At least we're all starting to get on the same page now,” Ruby said.

 

“Alright,” Blake said, standing up. “Are we done with this pow-wow?”

“I suppose so,” Weiss responded, satisfied.

Blake nodded, thanking them for being understanding, at least. She was far from okay with having to put everything out there, but if nothing else, at least they didn't have to worry about her anymore. Maybe she should take Tygan's suggestion, and visit Tyson. Anything to distract from all this.

 

* * *

 

 

She headed to the infirmary, finding Ana already there, chanting in Arabic. She didn't hear Blake enter. She stood off to the side, allowing Ana to finish whatever she might have been doing. Her chanting subsided, and she turned, jumping slightly at the surprise of seeing Blake there.

“I'm sorry, child,” Ana said. “I didn't mean to take time away from you.”

“No, not a problem, Ana,” Blake replied. “If I may ask, what were you doing?”

“Oh, just praying for his soul. I felt he deserved it.”

“Does he believe in anything like that?”

Ana pointedly looked at Blake, smiling. “I think you would know that more than I, child.”

 

Blake raised an eyebrow, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I may be an old woman, but I'm not blind yet, Blake.”

“O-oh,” Blake stuttered, “I, uh, we-”

“Don't worry, child,” Ana reassured her. “Life's too short to have regrets over people.”

 

Ana departed, leaving her alone with Tyson and the beeping machinery that had been hooked up to him. A mask covered his lower face, apparently to help regulate his breathing. Monitors were covered with various charts and graphs that didn't make sense to her untrained eye. It was probably the third most depressing thing she had seen, topped only by Ruby being unconscious and Jaune and Nora's injuries last month.

 

She opened her mouth to speak to Tyson, before closing it, unsure how to start a message he may or may not even hear. Was he even aware she was standing next to him? The way Tygan described his condition yesterday, probably not. What kind of enduring nightmare was he experiencing right now?

“I wish I could help,” she finally said, surprising herself with the words coming out of her mouth. “I keep seeing my friends and family get hurt, and it's tearing me apart each time. Is it asking too much to have you around after the war ends? I hope it's not.”

 

The only response she got was the beeping, ever consistent and uncaring. This was pointless. Of course he couldn't hear her. How could he? Tyson was still trapped in whatever hell the aliens had inflicted upon him. She shook her head, angry she had even believed such a stupid idea would possibly work.

 

Suddenly, Tyson opened his eyes, grabbing the various tubes and needles that had been put in him and tearing them and his mask off, setting off alarms on the medical monitors. His eyes were wild, searching for something, anything, until he set his eyes on Blake.

 

They weren't the same eyes she had looked into when he was telling her about Lee.

 

These were eyes that looked ready to kill. Kill _her._ On instinct, he reached for his hip, but found nothing there. This moment of confusion allowed Tygan to approach, holding him down with the help of a few strong-bodied assistants.

“Lieutenant!” Tygan shouted, “you're alright! You're back at headquarters!”

Tyson's struggle calmed, until he relaxed and relented on his grip, no longer trying to shove people off of him. He took several deep breaths, holding a hand up to his head and noting the shocked reactions of the room.

“Alright,” he said. “What'd I do this time?”

“We should save that for later. How are you feeling, Lieutenant?”

“Like I got run over by a fucking truck. How long was I out?”

 

“Well,” Tygan commented, taking a note, “at least his personality remains intact. One day, Lieutenant. I'm not sure how long exactly.”

“Fuckin' wonderful. Am I cleared to get back in the field?”

“Ah, not yet,” Tygan said. “You've been abnormally affected by alien psionic attacks. I'd like to conduct a full mental exam before I clear you.”

Tyson rolled his eyes, saying to Tygan, “Fine, I guess. Gotta get back to the squad, Doc.”

“So...you're back to normal now, right?” Blake asked, wary of stepping closer.

 

Tyson looked at her strangely, then Tygan, who shrugged. The aides Tygan had called over had disappeared by now, no longer needed now that their patient had calmed.

“I guess I ain't 'till Tygan tells me so,” Tyson said. “Why? What'd I do?”

“You just...you were ready to kill everyone here.”

“What she means is,” Tygan answered, “that you reacted rather violently upon awaking.”

“Yeah, thanks, Doc,” Tyson said sarcastically. “I kinda figured that out.”

“You looked ready to kill me, Tyson,” Blake said, genuinely worried now for his mental stability.

He looked completely dumbfounded. His eyes darted across the room, trying to find logic in what Blake was saying.

“I...” he began, “I'm sorry, Blake. That wasn't me.”

 

“Who was it, then?” she asked.

“Aliens, I guess. I got this vision when Moira and Hazelnut were there with the aliens. Everyone was frozen, I guess, and I had a gun in my hand. Pointed right at you. I heard voices telling me to kill you.”

“Fascinating,” Tygan muttered.

“Well,” Blake said, cautious. “I hope that they're still not trying to influence you.”

“No,” Tyson answered. “I'm not going to kill you, Blake. Not now, not ever. You'd have to kill _me_ first.”

“Gee,” Blake said, “that's...real comforting.”

“Ahm,” Tygan interrupted. “Not to intrude upon your conversation, but, Miss Belladonna, I do need to conduct a mental examination immediately, so, if you would...”

 

Getting the hint, Blake left the med bay. More than ever, Blake felt hatred for the aliens. They could try to invade if they wanted. They could try to occupy Remnant's cities. But trying to turn her friends against her, kill innocent people? That earned them her spite. She didn't care if she had to kill every last one of them herself. They'd pay for everything they tried to do.


	19. Ruina Imperii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam ignores Salem's orders. Blake and Tyson have another falling out.

“Everything that was asked of me, I've done.”

 

Salem looked down upon Adam, who was kneeling before her. In a way, he did have a point. He had conducted the coup of the White Fang, short-lived as it was. He had allowed himself to be captured to make contact with Moira, rest her soul. He had even led alien troops into battle to accomplish the prior goal. He _had_ done everything she had asked.

 

“Yes,” Salem said, her voice flat and emotionless. “You have.”

“Then let me do this,” he pleaded. “Let me take my revenge.”

“The last person who attempted to interfere with friends of the silver-eyed girl died.”

Adam sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“I'm not like that _human_ ,” he said, indignant. “I'm better than her.”

“I don't see it.”

 

Salem rose from her throne, circling around Adam, who tracked her through his mask.

“Do you know what your problem is, Adam?”

“I don't _have_ any problems.”

“You're arrogant. You let your emotions drive you. Most would see this as a benefit, but I see it as a hazard. You made mistakes because you didn't consider alternatives.”

“I don't have to stand for this slander,” Adam growled.

“No. You don't. You'll sit down and take it, because you surround yourself with yesmen.”

“And you don't?”

“I surround myself with people who _do their jobs_ and do it well,” Salem said, “and know how to listen to orders.”

“Oh really?” Adam asked, standing to face her. “What about Cinder? What about Moira?”

 

Was he trying to intimidate her? Call her on failures? This would have been laughable, were he not asking for a free pass to attack XCOM again.

“Cinder and Moira were blinded by their own ambitions. Both of them thought they knew more than me. You shouldn't fall into that trap, Adam. I don't think I have to tell you what happens when you defy me.”

“I don't care,” he shot back. “Give me Grimm. Give me an army. Give me all the aliens you can call upon. I'll destroy XCOM, and everything they stand for!”

Salem shook her head. “You want to destroy XCOM? You want to further the goals of the White Fang? Have patience. The aliens are doing their part. We must do ours and wait for them to create an opportunity.”

Adam clenched his jaw. “Nobody got anything done by waiting until everything was perfect.”

“Imperfect plans caused Cinder and Moira's downfalls. Your own mistakes cost you success at Haven. If I find out you tried to defy me, and you raise an army to take on XCOM before I order you to, failure against them will be the least of your problems.”

 

She could see Adam's hatred growing. Good. Maybe he could use that anger and redirect it to more useful matters. Or, maybe he would defy her anyway, and provide a good excuse to get rid of a troublesome subordinate. It didn't matter to her. Hazel and Watts were loyal, that she could rely on. Adam was just a means to an end. Salem dismissed Adam, once again denying him the revenge he so desperately sought. In time, she hoped, he would learn. Maybe one day, Adam would see reason.

 

* * *

 

 

In a way, restriction to the medical bay was a good thing for Tyson and Blake, since it meant she could visit him more often. When Tygan or his assistants weren't lurking around, Tyson often revealed to Blake various things about his life. He had told her his mother was a German citizen, someone his father had met while he was stationed in Germany. Both of his parents spoke German, and he grew up speaking German at home, English at school, fluent in both. To him, Dad was an old soldier, an enlisted man from day one and never attaining a rank higher than Sergeant, not that he ever wanted it. In Tyson's words, his dad thought he had made it by reaching Sergeant First Class.

 

He also talked of his days in the military, how the United States government had paid him to go to school and learn Russian. Tyson said they had wanted to make him an intelligence officer, before he took his own path to being a Ranger and front-line duties. Still, he said, fluently speaking three languages didn't hurt for a front-line leader.

 

“There's something on my mind,” Blake said one day as she visited, Tyson having just wrapped up another story from training.

“What's up?” he asked.

“Moira once said that the true struggle was for the superiority of ideas,” Blake said. “She wondered if yours would take hold here. What did she mean by that?”

Tyson shifted uncomfortably in his bed, darting his eyes left to right. She could tell he was nervous to talk about this.

“I didn't tell you the whole truth about the New American Revolutionary Front.”

“The militia?”

“Yeah,” Tyson said, nodding. “We were a Marxist-Leninist militia, aiming to start a revolution to empower the workers of the United States into a communist society.”

 

Blake blinked. What did all these words mean? Was this some kind of a code? Her blank stare must have let Tyson know she didn't have a clue what he was talking about, since he started searching for a way to put it into better words.

“Look at it this way,” he explained. “All of your nations are ruled by kings and queens, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

“As Hunters and Huntresses, you all fight for the Kingdoms. You uphold their societies, and keep them safe.”

“What's your point here?”

“The theory of a communist society,” he said, “is founded upon the idea of 'from each according to his ability, to each according to his need'. You take what you need, give what you can.”

“That sounds simple enough,” Blake said, shrugging. “Most of us do that anyway.”

“But imagine,” he said, leaning forward to meet her eyes, “a place where it didn't matter what family you came from, what you looked like, how much money you had. Imagine if everyone was working for the same goal, instead of every man for himself.”

 

“What makes you think we aren't already?” Blake asked, unsure what he was getting at.

“Because you've told me. The existence of the White Fang tells me enough about that. The fact you have kings and queens deciding policy tells me that.”

“It's worked for us so far.”

“But you don't deny that your status as a Faunus causes people to take second glances at you.”

Blake paused, about to retort but finding herself unable to. Dammit, he had a point.

“Look at me, Blake,” he said. “I'm a black German-American. Neo-Nazis thought they could insult me to my face in their shitty German, half the kids I grew up with thought I acted white too damn much. I don't want to see any more hatred, I just want to be accepted for who I am.”

 

“You _are,_ though,” she said, holding his hand tightly. “Nobody here thinks badly about you because of who you are, or what you look like. We all support you.”

“But what about _you,_ Blake? Am I going to be called a race traitor because of you? Are you going to be shunned by your people because of me?”

“Who cares what they think? We don't need them.”

“You don't get it, Blake,” he said, shaking his head. “The kingdoms don't want to see the Faunus as equal to their citizens. They want to use people like me against you.”

Blake felt a rush of heat, furrowing her brow and saying harshly, “You don't know that, and if you do anything like that -”

“I know because I've seen it happen before, Blake. Us versus them mentality. That's why I joined that militia.”

 

Blake withdrew her hand from his, rubbing her nose. “Alright,” she said, “explain to me again what this militia wanted to do?”

“When we had the numbers and support, we were going to create a communist society. The American government would be replaced with one we made.”

“By force?”

“We had no other choice. Votes don't change anything.”

“I can't believe this,” Blake said, stepping away from him. “You actually had me fooled, you know that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, confused.

“You had me believe you were different, that you weren't just some psychopath like Adam. Well, guess what, I see it now. You and Adam both think the only way to get what you want is through violence, but that's not the way. It's _never_ the way.”

 

“Hold on,” Tyson said. “I only considered it because the American system was rigged against anyone outside the mainstream parties. This entire _world_ is rigged against people like _you,_ Blake, and I'm sick of fucking seeing it.”

“Killing people to achieve your goals isn't how you gain equality! When the fuck are you and Adam going to learn that?! Are you ever?!”

“Adam can fuckin' fall off a cliff for all I care! I'm not stepping into this world and letting people like you be stuck at the bottom forever!”

“There's always another way,” Blake said. “You just see this as something to shoot, but you can't shoot your way through every problem in front of you!”

“Let me know how that stance works out for you when the kings and queens decide to come and wreck your shit because the Faunus are getting a little too powerful, Blake.”

“Fuck you,” Blake said, walking away, “we can defend ourselves, we don't need somebody like you to uplift us like some benevolent savior.”

 

Blake left the medical bay, angrier than she had ever been. She ignored the stares of those who had heard their argument, heading straight to her room to lock herself in and isolate herself from the world again. Fuck people. Fuck Tyson. Fuck his Marxist-Leninist bullshit. Fuck everything about him. She didn't need him, she didn't need _anyone_.

 

She didn't need anyone, except a friend.

 

* * *

 

 

Yang didn't know what Tyson and Blake had argued about, but she could tell that it had caused an irreparable rift between them. The tension was palpable each time they were in a room together, much less forced together by combat. Tyson had been cleared after four days of rest and recovery, much to Ana's relief, and Blake's chagrin. For his part, Tyson had returned to the same reclusive spirit he had been several months ago, when they had first found him on Remnant. Blake was as standoffish as ever to him, maybe even more so now.

 

Regardless of personal drama, alien raids had grown bolder. They were no longer content to terrorize the safe zones and outlying settlements anymore. Groups of aliens breached the borders of Mistral almost daily, forcing Misfit to be on a near-permanent patrol in the area. Micheal was less than thrilled about it, but he accepted the daily missions anyway. At least, that's what Yang thought. The raids were easily repelled with the three of them anyway.

 

Therefore, it was unusual when Killip had called for reinforcements. He refused to give specifics, only mentioning that a “large hostile force” was headed their way. Nobody could confirm whether it was true, or if Killip was once again overestimating the size of the enemy. But, overestimating or no, Echo had to go out, and go out they did.

 

The ride over to the battle was, in a way, awkward. Tyson was speaking to Ana in Russian, but she couldn't discern the details. Yang could have sworn she heard Blake's name come up, but wasn't sure. Blake herself was staring out the window, lost in a daydream, perhaps imagining better times. Other than Ana and Tyson's hushed Russian, the ship was quiet. Anticipation and dread over the coming fight must be affecting everyone.

 

“Here we go,” the pilot announced. “Touching down now.”

The ship began to lower, and as they neared the ground the doors opened, and suddenly Yang could hear the telltale sounds of gunfire, both alien and friendly. It was far heavier than it should have been for a probing raid. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Tyson readying his machine gun.

“Let's go!” he ordered, waving his hand forward for emphasis. “First Sergeant, we're in the AO, how bad is it, over?”

“I count a hundred,” Micheal said over the radio, static-filled, “no, two hundred, fuckin' – goddammit, just get 'ere!”

With great haste, the squad moved ever closer to the gunfire, making it clear that this time, Killip wasn't exaggerating. There really _was_ a large hostile force.

 

And they didn't seem to even end.

 

Across the crest, she could see what felt like millions of alien troopers, dozens of officers, enough Sectoids to brainwash the entire city, and far too many alien Mutons, Berserkers, and those disturbing Archons. The only way this could be more of a nightmare scenario was if they had brought Sectopods or Faceless with them. Maybe Chryssalids.

 

Tyson had immediately joined the line, firing off bursts with an almost clockwork efficiency. Orders for RWBY got lost as Ana climbed a nearby building to get a better position. There wasn't much need for many orders now, though. They knew what they had to do – kill every last alien between them and Mistral.

 

The pops of Ruby's rifle mixed with Ana's shots as Yang and Blake charged forward, mixing with alien skirmishers as Weiss summoned an ice golem to aid them. As expected, Blake used her Semblance to disorient the aliens and lure them into traps, making battle-frenzied Archons and Berserkers easy prey for Yang. Off in the distance, Yang was aware of Qrow slicing through aliens and blasting officers away with ease, thinning the herd even more.

 

An Archon let out an otherworldly scream, rising high in the air to rain down fire. Yang followed the beams, watching them land on Qrow, Ruby and Killip.

“Out of the fucking way!” somebody shouted.

Ruby dove away from the beam, apparently after urging from Ana. Qrow too dodged the rays, as Ana focused her fire on the offending Archon, dropping it from the sky. Not long afterwards, explosives wrecked the ancient Mistral buildings. Despite their withering fire, the alien numbers didn't seem to even thin. They still just kept coming.

 

Across the way, Yang heard the telltale sound of an alien Sectopod. It rose above the hill, like an omen of doom itself, and upon it rode a figure. Who the fuck was crazy enough to ride that thing?

Killip laughed maniacally, shouting out to the Sectopod, “ALRIGHT, SWEETHEART, LET'S DO THE MASOCHISM TANGO!”

Tyson shouted something, the words of which were quickly lost in the sound of his machine gun firing. Already numerous belts of ammunition and hot barrels were piling up, an indication of just how much ammunition he had expended in so little time.

“Yang,” Ruby asked, “what is that thing?!”

“Something we're killing right the fuck now!” Yang shot back, already heading right for it.

As she approached, Yang could now more clearly see the figure on top of the Sectopod.

 

It was Adam.

 

No time to worry about him. She had aliens to kill. The sectopod was priority number one, and she would kill it, or die trying. The screams of dying Sectoids filled her ears as they fell by Ana's rifle, alongside the groans of fallen Mutons. She was barely even conscious of the shots being exchanged by each side, a conversation of the most violent nature. Blake was soon by her side, attacking the Sectopod with her.

 

A quick, staccato conference with Blake confirmed that the legs were its weak points, and coordinating a plan to knock it down before it had a chance to use it's doom-laser. Yang wasn't sure that's what it was really called, but, well, it fit. She could hear rounds, probably from Tyson, bouncing off the armor as she and Blake maneuvered around it to disable and eventually destroy its legs. Blake did her best to force it to step into flash-frozen copies of herself, spreading ice into its joints as Yang hammered it with explosive rounds.

 

Adam must have taken notice, as he had by now jumped down to join them and stop them from destroying what was likely his only Sectopod. His weapon shimmered in the light as he unsheathed it, a snarl crossing his face.

 

“You little _bitch_ ,” Adam said to Blake, completely ignoring Yang. “I'm going to kill you for what you did.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Blake said flatly.

“So much fire from a slut. Do you want me to cut your friend's other arm off?”

 

Here we go. Adam wanted to dance? Let's dance, buddy. Yang won't be making the same mistake she did last time. She had more backup now. More allies. She could see the anger rising in Blake's eyes, threatening to unhinge her if she wasn't careful.

 

Take stock. Adam's range is dangerous, she can't go too close. Blake can harass him at distance, force him on the defensive. That could be Yang's opportunity, but he'd expect that. No, they'd have to shake it up. Blake can distract him, confuse him, get him in traps. Yang can hit him hard and fast if he's not moving. He's smart though, he knows they're not pushovers. Or does he?

 

The fight began even before she was aware of it. Adam deflected shots from both Blake and Yang with relative ease, switching deftly to the offensive the second they gave him an opening. Shit, she just realized the others were too focused on the Sectopod to help them out. Where was Qrow? Where was Ana? Ruby? Did they see what was happening?

 

Adam's time on the offensive didn't last long. Blake punished him hard for overextending by forcing him to hit a stone copy, immobilizing him for a moment. Yang followed up by delivering a solid haymaker right to his back, slamming him into the ground and momentarily stunning him. He rolled over, just as a shot hit the ground next to his face. Who fired that? Was it Ana?

 

“Keep him still,” Ana said over the radio, confirming her suspicion. “We can end this with one shot.”

Yang nodded to Blake, who had heard the same thing as she. Keeping Adam pinned was their only priority now. More traps. More suppression. It didn't help. He kept dodging everything once he figured out their plan, and it infuriated the fuck out of Yang. Ana's shots ranged from going wide to just barely missing, only giving Adam more reason to try and keep light.

 

Opportunity. He wasn't defending, he was trying to dodge. His entire vision was focused on Blake, he didn't see Yang coming. One punch, that's all she needed, right to his fucking gut. That'd put him down for good. She wound up, and followed through, feeling ribs crack as she hit his flesh. Perfect. Smooth as silk. Almost as if in slow motion, she heard another shot ring out from Ana's rifle, and then, a blast of blood out from Adam's head as a bullet passed through it.

 

Adam lurched over, collapsing, dead. Blood seeped out of his head. Blake stood over him, panting heavily despite the still-raging gunfire. She closed her eyes, sighed deeply, and spat on his body, walking away to keep fighting. Only the Sectopod remained, stubbornly wrecking cover and buildings as it marauded around the landscape.

 

Yang and Blake headed back to rejoin the fighting, where the Sectopod was now shakily advancing, clearly damaged and on its last figurative legs. It stopped, again preparing to fire off its laser.

“Get to cover!” Micheal shouted, rushing away to seek more solid protection.

“YOU CANNOT KILL ME,” Killip shouted in defiance, “I AM ALREADY ABLAZE WITH PASSION _FOR WAR_!”

Killip produced a rocket launcher, from where Yang didn't know, and fired off a round at the Sectopod, which shook it violently, forcing it to sway from side to side. The Sectopod swayed, still charging the laser, until it fell. It fired the laser in its last acts before hitting the ground.

 

Yang, Blake, and from what she saw before hitting the dirt, Ruby, Ana and Tyson had all taken cover. Dust was kicked up by the massive machine collapsing, obscuring Yang's vision completely. She coughed as she stood up, trying to see through the massive dust cloud in front of her. Blake coughed too – good, she was alright.

 

“Sound off,” Tyson sputtered over his radio, “all good?”

“Got blood on me,” Micheal said, “but it ain't mine.”

“I'm good,” Ruby reported.

“Dirty, but safe,” Weiss said.

“Nothing I can't recover from,” Ana said.

“I need a drink,” Qrow said.

“All good here,” Blake reported.

“Same here,” Yang said.

 

Something was off. Killip wasn't responding. Yang headed towards the sandbags where Killip had made his stand, hoping to find him standing defiantly like some sort of war poster, but didn't see anything through the smoke and dust. She called out his name, but got nothing. As the dust settled and her vision became clearer, she could finally see what had happened.

 

First Sergeant Randy Killip had died on Remnant, killed by a Sectopod laser.

 

Yang's anguished scream could probably be heard for miles. Yang fell to her knees as she screamed, unable to do anything but sit there, sobbing. Ruby and Weiss were right there by her side, Blake quickly joining as well. She couldn't bear to look at Killip's corpse, unwilling to see the devastation of the alien weapon first-hand.

 

“First Sergeant is down,” Tyson reported to headquarters. “I repeat, First Sergeant is down, we need immediate exfil.”

“Fuck,” Micheal said, dropping his rifle and clutching his head. “No, no, no, not again, what the fuck, what the fuck, WE'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO FUCKING DIE, GODDAMMIT!”

“Sergeant!” Ana shouted, grabbing hold of Micheal, “get a hold of yourself!”

“This doesn't make sense,” Yang said, tears cascading off her face. “I don't – how did – just, _why?_ ”

“Yang,” Ruby asked, crying as well, “Are you going to be okay?”

Yang looked at her, unsure what to do. Between deep breaths and visible tears, the two sisters embraced each other. Slowly, Blake and Weiss too held Ruby and Yang close, doing what little they could to bring some comfort to what was quickly becoming one of the worst days in their shared history.


	20. You and Whose Army?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XCOM rallies around First Sergeant Killip's death. A probing raid on the alien's forward base doesn't go quite as planned. Doubts creep in as the final hours tick down.

Killip's funeral was perhaps one of the more somber affairs Blake had the displeasure of being a part of. She couldn't imagine what it was doing to Micheal, who by the passing minute was looking more and more depressed. The entire headquarters had turned out for the First Sergeant's funeral, even Freeman, surprisingly enough.

 

Yang and Micheal wallowed in misery together, supporting each other in the passing of their beloved sergeant. She had never heard her say it outright, but Blake believed Yang viewed Killip as a mentor, someone she should aspire to have been had she stayed on Earth. Pyrrha and Weiss shed their tears, neither viewing him nearly as favorably as Yang did, but respects had to be paid when due. Stories were passed around of the First Sergeant, recounting his life, his times, and speculation on what had happened to him that had made him the way he was.

 

Ana knew he had served in the American Army for a long time before joining XCOM, and speculated one of the many American wars had shattered his psyche. Price claimed his mind was broken during the alien invasion of Earth, but didn't specify when. Freeman thought he had just always been insane, just “born this way”, an opinion Qrow shared. When questioned, Tyson just shrugged.

 

Blake made her way over to Yang not long after the mourning began, hoping to raise her friend's spirits some. The constant shimmer of tears rolling down her face told Blake she couldn't possibly be soothed.

“Hey, Blake,” Yang said, wiping her face with one of her hands.

“Want me to get anything for you?”

“No, thanks. I just can't believe he's really gone.”

“Yeah,” Blake said. “It's...it's surreal, I guess.”

“He deserved to be happy,” Yang muttered. “He didn't deserve to die here.”

“Nobody does, Yang.”

“But – goddammit, we could have saved him.”

“What do you mean, Yang?”

“I mean,” she said, closing her eyes to try to stave off even more tears, “if we had just worked faster, destroyed that fucking Sectopod quicker –“

“Yang,” Blake said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “don't do this to yourself. You didn't cause his death.”

“I could have helped,” she sobbed. “He was always there when I needed help, and I wasn't for him. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell him what he meant to me.”

 

“He knew,” Micheal said, downing another glass of beer.

“Huh?” Yang asked, turning to look at him.

“First Sarge always talked about how you were the best fuckin' soldier he ever had. He loved you like a daughter, Yang. He never told anyone, but...when you went back? He cried for hours.”

“Goddammit, Micheal,” she said, hitting his arm. “Stop fucking telling me shit like this! Don't you see I'm suffering enough?!”

Sensing trouble, Ruby headed over, hugging Yang close. Blake too embraced her, trying to calm her down as best she and Ruby could. She felt Yang's heavy sobs rock her body, unable to form actual words anymore. Blake could also hear Ruby quietly whispering to Yang, telling her it was okay. It was _okay_ to feel this way, to be angry.

 

Suddenly, Tyson took a glass of beer into his hands, raising it high.

“ _Drink with me,_ ” he began to sing. “ _To days, gone by._ _Sing with me, the songs we knew._ _”_

“What's he singing?” Blake quietly asked Ana.

“It's a song from a musical,” she answered. “The story of a failed rebellion.”

_“Can it be, you fear to die? Will the world remember you when you fall?”_ Tyson continued,  _“_ _c_ _ould it be your death means nothing at all? Is your life just one more lie?_ ”

Slowly, Price, Micheal, and Ana joined in, piecemeal.

_“_ _Drink with me, to days gone by. To the life, that used to be._ _At the shrine of friendship never say die. Let the wine of friendship never run dry._ ”

Just as slowly, the three raised their glasses, and getting the idea, RWBY, Qrow, and JNPR joined for the final verse.

_“Drink with me, to days gone by. Here's to you, and here's to me.”_

 

* * *

 

 

In the background, Chief Engineer Shen had been working hard at figuring out the alien's newest insertion method. Her scans had been unable to find an alien gateway much like they had used during the invasion of Earth, and therefore, she concluded, they had to have developed a new method to insert their forces on Remnant. Thus far, XCOM as a whole had never observed the aliens using things like space-borne ships for staging forces, relying on teleportation to move forces across worlds and realms.

 

Until today. Word had finally reached Mistral from other continents, carrying news that cargo pilots had spotted an unusual structure out on the ocean, far beyond normal routes and surrounded, strangely enough, by Grimm. The Grimm seemed uninterested in attacking it like they would other structures or even ships passing through the area, latching onto the bizarre shape like an oasis.

 

It was against this backdrop that Pyrrha found herself flying above the oceans, heading towards the area with  Delta . It had been four days since Killip's funeral, and while she couldn't say she was completely alright following his passing, she at least could claim a newly-found focus. Each person who had died – Rex, Killip, Hannah, Ludwig, Mundy – Pyrrha would make sure their memories would be avenged and honored.

 

“Hey,” Jaune said as they approached the suspect location. “Is this what we're looking for?”

Freeman sauntered over to the window, grumbling as he did so. He shrugged as he peered out it.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, now getting in contact with headquarters. “Hey, you guys seeing this?”

“We got it,” Bradford answered. “That's the largest alien ship we've ever seen.”

“So, yeah,” Freeman complained, “who wants to bet there's a million aliens down there? Oh, and the fucking demons too. Perfect!”

“See how close you can get,” Bradford ordered. “Limited probe. We need to test their defenses.”

 

Freeman swore, shaking his head as he  walked away from the window. Pyrrha took this chance to check the window herself, seeing countless aliens and just as many Grimm prowling around. Alien autonomous turrets dotted the ship's exterior, a further threat to them. Bradford had to have seen these. Why did he want them to probe the  aliens ?

 

Platforms extended out from the ship in every direction, at least a kilometer long, if not farther. Each platform had a large square area, likely for landing alien dropships to load up troops. Their transport landed on one, the pilot explaining he'd stay close by, but urging them to keep it quick. Not even he had enough fuel to stay around forever.

 

Already, Pyrrha could see aliens grouping up to stop them. She couldn't tell from this distance, but she estimated there were close to a dozen troopers, probably some officers, and no less than eight Mutons. Were there mechs with them? It would surprise her if they hadn't tasked some to defend their ship.

 

“Oh joy, more of  _you_ ,” Freeman said, ostensibly to the aliens.

“What's the plan, sir?” Ren asked, readying his weapon.

“Fuck it,” Freeman muttered. “Don't let me get killed, and kill some of them. Usual shit.”

Jaune unfolded his shield, saying to nobody in particular, “That's...inspiring.”

 

Pyrrha sprinted forward and took cover near a lamppost, checking her scope to confirm numbers and check range. Helpfully, the aliens were always the same height, and her scope's built-in rangefinder was useful. Alan had complained in the past that it wasn't as helpful against human enemies because the scope assumed whoever it was pointed at was always the same height. Regardless, she now knew the aliens were six hundred meters away from them. It'd be an easy shot if the wind wasn't throwing everything around.

 

On her left, she heard Freeman unloading magazine after magazine at the aliens as he moved forward, providing some cover for Jaune, Ren and Nora to move up relatively unopposed. Pyrrha soon centered her sights on an alien officer, who was already busy directing troopers around. She compensated for the wind and distance and sent a bullet downrange, taking him out permanently and disorienting the troopers for a brief moment.

 

As the aliens drew closer, however, she could see her initial assessments were off. The aliens had no less than two dozen troopers, five officers, nine Mutons, three mechs, and four Sectoids. She wasn't sure they could feasibly repel this many aliens, especially if they had more waiting in the ship itself in case the first wave was destroyed.

 

“SUPPRESSIVE FIRE IN, SUPPRESSIVE FIRE OUT, DO THE HOKEY POKEY AND THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT!” Freeman screamed as he continued to burn ammo, throwing shots wide in an attempt to suppress the aliens if only for a little bit.

“There's too many of them,” Ren shouted above the gunfire, “We're too exposed here!”

“ We can make it!” Jaune said, shielding himself from incoming fire.

As Pyrrha continued to take down enemy aliens, bursts of Muton rifle fire zipped past her, dangerously close. Had they figured out she was their primary long-range threat? Probably.

“Oh, fuck this!” Freeman shouted, gesturing for them to retreat. “NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS AROUND HERE!”

 

Between a flurry of gunshots and alien screeches, word got to the pilot to pick them up and extract them. Until he could get there, they had to hold out near the landing platform for a little while longer.  The aliens had closed in on them by now, dangerously close and rendering Pyrrha's scope unwieldy. She could practically count the buttons on the troopers flooding them now, they were so close.

 

“I FEEL SUFFICIENTLY MOTIVATED TO LEAVE THIS PLACE,” Freeman screamed in vain. “I DON'T NEED YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT!”

In front of them, Nora was gleefully knocking away aliens, sending them flying into the ocean as Jaune cut them down with relative ease, detaching limbs with each blow. Ren harassed the aliens further out, preventing them from easily joining in the fight without risking more fire from him and Freeman.

 

Pyrrha wasn't sure how much ammo she had spent fighting the aliens, only that she had to keep shooting until their transport arrived.  Empty magazines were scattered around her feet, and spent casings were all over the floor. The familiar sound of engines soon arrived, followed by panicked urging from the pilot for them to get on. As they took off, Nora took it upon herself to send off several grenade launcher rounds, scattering the aliens even further and definitely racking up some more kills for her.

 

“God fucking dammit,” Freeman said, collapsing against the wall of the transport. “I'm done after this shit.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tyson asking to see Blake alone wasn't unusual. After all, they had seen each other in private enough that nothing he did surprised her anymore. She wondered what it was about this time. Was he going to give her another story about his past, or were they going to argue again? Or was he going to justify to her again why violence was necessary to achieve his goals?

 

Like usual, he was in the armory, maintaining not just his weapon, but other weapons as well. She recognized the rifle on his workbench as once belonging to Killip. She knocked on the door jamb to announce her presence, to which he turned for a brief moment to acknowledge, but quickly turned back to reassembling the rifle.

 

“Hey, Blake,” he said.

“So, what is it this time?” Blake asked, expecting an argument.

Setting the rifle back together, Tyson turned to her and said, “Promise me this won't leave this room?”

“What won't?”

“It's not official yet,” he explained, “but we're going to be attacking that alien ship out in the ocean.”

“Our squad, you mean?” Blake asked. “That...sounds suicidal.”

“No,” he said. “Everyone. All squads are going out. Commander wants everyone on-call for it, and that means even Bradford and Ozpin have been ordered out.”

 

Blake's eyes grew wide. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why ask Bradford and Ozpin to fight the aliens? Would the Commander be joining them? A million questions swam through Blake's head, and she wasn't sure she wanted all of them answered.

 

“So,” Tyson said. “I wanted to… fuck, I didn't think this through.”

“Think what through? What are you trying to say, Tyson?”

He looked almost scared, avoiding looking into her eyes. His breathing was labored, almost like he had a weight on his chest that made it impossible to breathe.

“ I saw that ship, Blake. There's got to be tens of thousands of aliens on it. Fighting into that, it's going to be worse than fucking Normandy.”

Weiss had told Blake about a Battle of Normandy before. It had happened long ago in Earth's history, she lectured, a massive amphibious invasion into an occupied country that had killed nearly 130,000 people.

Tyson's eyes began to well up with tears as he said, “If I'm going to die, I have to tell you, Blake. I don't care if the only thing I get out of this is five minutes of feeling good, because I'll be dying knowing that I love you, Blake.”

 

“Oh my God,” Blake said, covering her mouth, feeling tears come on.

“I'm sorry for everything I did,” he said. “I wish we didn't have to meet like this, in the middle of a fucking war I've been fighting for longer I can remember. I'm tired, Blake. I'm tired of fighting. I want nothing more than to just be able to put away my weapon for the last time.”

“You can do that, Tyson,” Blake tearfully said. “ _We_ can do that.  If this – if this is the last thing we have to do to get rid of the aliens, then that's what we'll do.”

“What about Salem?” Tyson asked. “She's still out there, she's not going to fucking stop because her new allies got their shit kicked in.”

“With your help, with Price, Ana, all of you, Salem  wo n't stand a chance. We'll stop her.”

 

“I can't believe that,” Tyson said, “how the fuck am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because I love you, too,” Blake said, shoving him and feeling the tears freely flowing.

Tyson paused, not expecting Blake to shove him back. The two of them stared at each other in  silent shock, neither sure how to really react. Had she really said that? Was she even conscious of it until now? Come to think of it,  _why_ had she decided to even tell him that? Was it because this was the first time she had seem him truly, unequivocally afraid of going into combat? 

 

“ Do...do you really?” Tyson asked, his voice cracking. “Even after all I've done to you?”

“I can't pretend to understand this Marxist-Leninist thing,” she said, “but I don't love you for what you believe, I love you for _who you are._ There's no United States government for you to rebel against, to overthrow here. After we stop the aliens, Salem, you don't have to fight anymore. When we're done, you can put down your gun, and you can just _be.”_

Tyson's shoulders drooped down, and he kept his eyes shut, saying quietly, “I don't know if I can do that. All I know is fighting.”

“I believe in you,” Blake said. “You can' t keep yourself shackled to this.”

 

Tyson sighed heavily, wiping tears from his eyes to dry them.

“We'll just see,” he said, “we'll just see.”

 

* * *

 

 

The reports  Delta had made to the Commander, and by proxy the entirety of XCOM, stewed in their heads for a few days. There were multiple hours-long joint planning sessions that Bradford, Ana, Price, and Ozpin all attended, and even through the thick padded walls, the entire base could hear the muffled shouting and arguing emanating from the room. More often than not, the Commander got her way, though reportedly she had conceded some positions to Ozpin.

 

Yang noticed that JNPR was visibly shaken up by the assault on the alien ship. Usually, they were able to hide it, Nora especially, but the sheer numbers they claimed put a chill down everyone's spines. She couldn't help but speculate what Killip would have said had he survived to learn of the ship's existence. Probably boast about how it was nothing, how he and Misfit could take it on and come back for seconds.

 

Speaking of Misfit, perhaps more noticeably, it no longer  _existed_ . Micheal had been transferred to Bravo, and Qrow was relegated to a fill-in, going on whatever missions suited or pleased him. Weiss speculated this was one of the things the Commander had conceded to Ozpin, to keep him and Qrow on her good side. He couldn't possibly have been happy under Killip, Weiss claimed, his ego and Killip's strict discipline wouldn't allow it.

 

Three days after  Delta 's probing attack, the Commander personally called for an assembly of all XCOM operatives. She awaited them in the common area as they filled in, with Ozpin and Bradford by her side, neither looking terribly pleasant. Bradford looked almost regretful as he watched them filter in. How had he been affected by the deaths of so many soldiers? Yang couldn't possibly imagine how he dealt with it.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Commander said after all had settled in. “I bring good news and bad news. The good news is, we can defeat the aliens once and for all, right here, right now.”

Cautious cheers and clapping could be heard. This certainly was excellent news for many.

“The bad news is,” she said, “that we will need all hands on deck. The aliens are strong here. They're fortified. They know we're going to come for them. This will be the hardest mission we've ever conducted, as a team, as a force, as a resistance.”

 

“Therefore, tomorrow, all squads will be deployed against the alien mothership. Like I said, the good news is that we can defeat them. Chief Engineer Shen has determined the aliens have a relay inside their ship that is allowing them to mass troops to deploy against Remnant. However, we believe the aliens will hold this relay to the death. We have a five-hour window where the aliens will be unable to call upon reinforcements. That's our time limit. If we don't destroy the relay within that timeframe, we've failed.”

 

Bradford stepped forward, bringing all eyes to him.

“We may see the worst of the worst that the aliens haven't deployed elsewhere. The Avatar, if it survived. Codexes. Chryssalids. Every soldier needs to be prepared to kill without a second thought, without concern. There cannot be any freezing, any hesitation. If it's hostile, you kill it.”

Ozpin too took a step forward. “It is also likely the Grimm that Salem commands will attempt to help defend the alien ship. Hunters, Huntresses, this will be your time to shine. The Earth weapons cannot harm the Grimm, this we know.”

 

“I want to make it clear before we deploy tomorrow,” the Commander finished, “ t his will not be easy. This will test every soldier before us today. All of us – Bradford, Ozpin, myself – we will be by your side. I will not ask any of you to do something I would not do myself. Our enemy is motivated, tireless, and battle-hardened. They will not go quietly into the night. We will not go quietly either. We will raise a ruckus so loud, so massive, it will be heard from all continents.”

 

“All those who perished on Earth, our brothers and sisters and comrades in arms who died in defense of Earth and died defying the aliens, will hear us. Every man, woman, and child who died on Remnant or Earth, in those clinics meant to 'cure' them, will hear us. Their souls will cry out in a joyous chorus when we succeed, because they will know they have been avenged. They will know that we did not stop.”

 

Tyson stood up, drawing confused and curious looks from the room. Slowly, he turned to them, raising his fist.

“ _Ura,_ ” he said, then turned it into a chant,  pumping his fist with each word . “ _Ura, ura, ura, ura!_ ”

Slowly, others joined, until the entire room was now chanting, a deafening yell.

“ _Ura!_ ” they yelled, “ _Ura!_ _**Ura! U** _ _**RA** _ _**! U** _ _**RA** _ _**!** _ _”_

“ _OOOOOOOOOH-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”_ they finished.

 

There was something terrible but also something sad and melancholy in this long cry. Yang could hear the sadness of a soul parting with everything it loved, calling on its nearest and dearest, to lift their heads and hear for the last time the voice of a father, a brother, a husband, a son, a daughter, a wife, a sister, a mother.

 

A comrade.


	21. The Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the foot of Mistral to the shores of the sea  
> From the home of the brave, to the land of the free  
> From the home of the brave, to the land of the free  
> One last fight, justice shall be done, the final battle remains

The squads had been split up into several transports. Bradford, Ozpin, Qrow and the Commander formed a new squad, Romeo 5-1. Yang wasn't sure how to read the Commander. She was in control at all times, but Yang could see a barely concealed rage boiling within her. It reminded her disturbingly of herself. She also had opted to carry an old rifle into battle, according to Tyson a British-made battle rifle.

 

However, weapon choices couldn't exactly be the entire foundation of a person's personality. Nor would it help Yang get over her nerves for the battle ahead of her. She didn't know how it was going on other ships, but  Echo was quiet. Tyson and Ana didn't even bother to speak quietly in Russian to avoid eavesdropping ears. What would they talk about, anyway? All of them knew there was only one plan ahead of them; get into the alien ship, destroy their relay, and do it within five hours.

 

It sounded easy, but the only easy day was yesterday.

“Nearing target position,” the pilot announced. “May the Maidens watch over you all.”

Yang took a deep breath as the ship descended to the platform, spotting aliens already forming up to oppose them. Tyson must have seen it too – he readied his weapon, a terribly familiar sound to her now. Before deploying, he had made sure everyone capable of carrying it had at least two belts of ammunition for him, and tasked Blake, Ruby and Weiss with carrying bags of spare barrels for him. They  _all_ had stocked up on extra ammo, Dust and bullets alike. They couldn't possibly take a chance that they would run out at a critical junction.

 

By now, rain was sweeping over the platforms and the alien ship. The four transports dropped off their precious cargo, and off in the distance alien screams mixed with the horrible roars of Grimm. The aliens were waiting with bells on, and if they didn't have one hell of a fight ready for them, Yang would have actually been worried.

 

“Regroup on Romeo,” Ana ordered. “Diamond formation, children.”

Yang and Blake took their positions ahead of the squad, screening them and Tyson against future combatants. Yang stole glances at Blake every so often – she seemed to have a new-found purpose, a steely determination Yang hadn't seen from her since the battle of Haven. Already, gunshots were being traded from Romeo, who had deployed far forward of any other squad, and the aliens. Double-time was soon ordered.

 

Yang could see multiple alien mechs joining the fray, launching rockets and wrecking the far ends of the platforms. Thankfully, they were extremely wide, for what purpose Yang wasn't sure, but at least it made navigating them easier. Scattered gunfire echoed across the way, and Yang found herself urging herself to keep moving forward, lest she be left behind and out of the fight.

 

“Keep going!” Ana urged, “I'll cover you!”

As she neared the fight, Yang saw the aliens pushing forward, trying to stop Romeo from making advances. Tyson had already found a spot to provide suppressive fire, the sound of his machine gun ripping across the scene and helping cause a stalemate at the front. Shots from Ana and Pyrrha's rifles similarly broke across their ears, knocking down lesser aliens left and right. Orders from Romeo were lost in the combat as Qrow and Ozpin worked their way through the aliens, dodging their blows left and right.

 

Ozpin was expertly deflecting alien attacks, allowing Qrow to move in and slice apart the clear threat in the alien mechs. Even their heavy rifles were no match for Qrow and Ozpin's speed. Frustrated Mutons tried to engage with them in melee combat, wildly swinging their bayonet-affixed rifles trying to gain some kind of hit. All the while, those armed with conventional weapons popped off rounds, to varying effect.

 

“Punch through!” Price shouted, loading a fresh magazine in.

By Yang's estimation, they had another half kilometer to go before they even reached the inside of the ship, and that was  _if_ they weren't held up again by alien defenses. Pyrrha reported that the aliens were setting up defenses further down the line, mostly made up of troopers and a handful of officers.  Delta crashed through the lines, clashing with the aliens in melee as Nora launched grenades at the massed enemy forces.

 

“What the fuck is that?!” Micheal yelled, pointing to the distance.

Yang looked up from beating on a Muton she had caught, seeing an alien Codex. So, Bradford was right. The aliens wouldn't pull any punches today.

“Codex!” she shouted. “Take it down!”

Ana shot first, knocking one copy down only to be replaced by two immediately. In the background, Yang could hear Weiss informing those who hadn't had the displeasure of facing a Codex in combat of what it was capable of. Yang charged forward, throwing the Muton off the platform to a certain doom. This Codex wouldn't even have time to try anything serious.

 

As she neared it, the Codex fired a series of suppressive shots from its rifle,  but not aimed at her. They were aimed towards people behind her, but she wasn't sure who. All that mattered was she could get close to punch this thing into oblivion.  Before she could close the distance, the Codex brought forth a psionic field, and on instinct Yang looked behind her. Wu, one of Price's soldiers, had been caught in it. He seemed to move in slow motion, struggling to get out of the field. Within seconds, it dissipated, and horrifyingly, Wu just...didn't exist anymore. His very body seemed to explode from the field, sending blood and gore wide.

 

Yang turned back to the Codex, filled with rage. It phased in and out of reality, even as copies of itself were knocked down left and right. It almost seemed to  _challenge_ her, daring her to avenge one of their soldiers.  She leaped forward, delivering a knockout punch that sent the Codex flying, trailing with it an otherworldly scream as it left only its central “brain”, much like the first time she had fought it.

 

From behind her, grenades from Nora flew past, sailing for the alien defenses just beyond her. The turrets had begun to warm up now, firing shots at Yang, Qrow, and Ozpin, among others who were now forward of the line. Scattered rifle fire headed for the turrets, taking down at least one of them, and the ever-present sound of Tyson's machine gun kept alien heads down. All around her, XCOM was talking, giving orders, calling out enemies to focus, or generally cursing their situation.

 

Yang could see it now – they were within sight of the entrance. How much time did they had left? She checked her Scroll, where they had a synchronized timer available to all.  **4:14** . Had they really spent 46 minutes fighting to this point? It didn't feel like that to her.

 

“ Door's open!” somebody shouted.

“Go, go, go!” Price ordered, waving his arm forward to emphasize.

“ All squads,” the Commander said over the radio, “ s plit  up , search for the relay! That relay is priority number one!”

Echo quickly regrouped, and once together, burst into the alien ship right behind Bravo, which headed off to the left. Where Romeo had gone was unknown, but they could see Delta going off to the right, led by Freeman wildly firing as he went.

 

“Push forward!” Ana ordered.

The only path ahead of them took the squad deeper into the ship, encountering the usual alien troopers. Somewhere deep in the ship, Yang heard the telltale sounds of Chryssalids. Their terrible screeches echoed off the walls, sending shivers down Yang's spine. In these confined quarters, they were even deadlier than they ever would be anywhere else.

 

“What the hell was that?” Blake asked, visibly shaken.

“Chryssalids,” Weiss explained. “Don't let them close. They're extremely dangerous.”

“Shoot the fuckers on sight,” Tyson said. “Nobody's dying to one of those  mother fuckers today.”

“Cut the chatter,” Ana said, “look for that relay.”

 

Searching the alien ship was harder than expected. The entire ship was like a maze, with multiple paths leading to seemingly useless areas or dead ends, others filled with strange boxes nobody could discern the purpose of. Their usual means of navigation were useless, sending false messages and disorienting them further. All around them, the echoing noises and shots from elsewhere on the ship made discerning where the noises were coming from nearly impossible.

 

Rapid gunfire filled the halls, followed quickly by screams. Those weren't aliens.

“Need backup!” Price shouted through the radio. “Alien ambush! Svenson and Harkov are down!”

“Yang,” Tyson ordered, “break off and help, we can handle looking for the relay!”

“Are you sure?” Yang asked.

“Do it!”

Nodding, Yang headed off in the direction she thought she heard the sounds come from. The fire ramped up – Price and Micheal must have been fighting back by now. How had the aliens ambushed them?

 

She found out soon enough. Mutons were mixed in with Price and Micheal, both of whom were under fire from Sectoids. It looked like they had the Mutons under control, but the Sectoids were an issue. Yang engaged them first, heading into melee range where they were weakest. Quick, precise blows knocked them out of the fight entirely, allowing Yang to reorient herself against the Mutons.

 

More screams emanated from within the ship as she helped Price and Micheal fight the Mutons, a sure sign of further alien reinforcements. One down, one more to go. A squad of alien troopers arrived, immediately opening fire as they rounded the corner. Micheal shifted his focus to shooting the new arrivals as Price and Yang traded shots with the Muton. Price got a good shot off with his 1911, killing the Muton for good. Yang checked the reinforcing squad – Micheal had been able to get two of the six down, but she could see one in the middle of throwing a grenade, heading right for her and Micheal.

 

She barely had time to react before the grenade exploded, and successive gunshots and alien screams mixed together as her head rung like a massive bell. Disoriented and dazed, she tried to get up but couldn't. She didn't feel hurt – what had happened?  Getting focus back, Yang checked herself – everything was good. She hadn't lost any more limbs, and other than some scratches and bruises from being knocked around, she wasn't any worse for wear. Yang checked her Scroll again –  **2:59** .

 

“Relay found,” Pyrrha reported, “we're under heavy fire, we need immediate backup!”

Yang, Price and Micheal joined back up with Echo, and from there they all headed towards the relay, the location of which was given to them by Pyrrha as best as she could describe. She also further informed them that alien Chryssalids were swarming the relay room, and Freeman had made an executive decision to hold and wait for reinforcements before trying to get inside.

 

The screeches of the Chryssalids could be heard long before they were seen, and even before the gunshots from Delta could be heard.  As they neared Delta, Freeman could be heard shouting various threats at the aliens in between bursts, while Pyrrha maintained a cool focus, shifting from target to target with relative ease.

 

“YOU'RE THE REASON WE HAVE NAPALM!” Freeman shouted, killing a Chryssalid that headed outside the door. “Fucking overgrown bugs! Goddammit!”

“Set up a firing line!” Tyson ordered, setting up his machine gun near a box.

Now incensed by the addition of fire from Echo, the Chryssalids began to attack, swarming them as much as they possibly could. Thankfully, Tyson's machine gun kept most of them at bay, though the occasional one that broke through necessitated focused fire from Yang or Pyrrha, with Pyrrha usually claiming the kill.

 

“Report,” Bradford asked. “How do we stand on the relay?”

“Chryssalids everywhere,” Amari reported. “We can't break through, we need backup immediately!”

Shots came from behind them. Yang turned – alien reinforcements had arrived, followed by something crashing through the wall. Dust clouded their vision as Chryssalids began to retreat. Why would the Chryssalids fall back?

 

That was answered as the dust settled. A Gatekeeper, the informal name given to the enemy guarding the alien gateway in New Mexico, had appeared.  Like before, it paused, scanning each of them with its single eye, panels moving in and out of alignment for some strange reason.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” Freeman shouted. “I don't wanna fight H.P. Lovecraft's Pok é ball!”

“What in the unholy  **fuck** is that thing?!” Micheal screamed, paralyzed in fear.

“Commander,” Price reported, unusually panicked. “We have an alien Gatekeeper, I repeat, Gatekeeper is in play!”

“Shit,” she said. “ A lright, take that down with everything you have, we are  _not_ losing our window, do you understand me, Price? We're close to your position.”

 

“Yang,” Ruby asked, practically whispering in her ear. “What do we do? What is this thing?”

“Hit it with everything we got,” Yang said back, masking her fear with defiance.

“ _Griefen sie!_ ” Tyson shouted, already refocusing his weapon to open fire on the Gatekeeper.

Rounds from Tyson, Ana, Price, Micheal, Pyrrha and Freeman bounced off the Gatekeeper's armor, just pissing it off. Ruby, Blake and Jaune closed in with Yang, trying to distract it from using any potential psionic powers it had against the other squads. However, all but Yang stopped when it opened up, revealing its terrible interior and bizarre tentacles.

 

A wave of psionic energy spread out, knocking them all over. Off in the distance, Yang could hear otherworldly groans. This wasn't like the groans of Mutons or Berserkers. What was it? She didn't have to wonder long – the source of the noise shambled around the corner, groups of formerly dead alien soldiers, and disturbingly enough, dead members of Bravo, were moving towards them.

 

Yang could scarcely hear herself think over the noise of those around her – everyone, come to think of it – muttering and trying to figure out what the fuck they were seeing. Some tried to rationalize it as alien mind control. Ruby thought she was seeing things. Weiss believed herself to be totally delusional, while Blake kept repeating that it was just a dream. Tyson chanted something in German.

 

“OPEN FUCKING FIRE!” Micheal finally shouted, breaking the collected members out of their stupor.

The Gatekeeper seemed more interested in preventing them from moving to their objectives, firing a truly description-defying ray towards them, missing most but clipping Nora, sending her to the ground. Gunshots mixed heavily with orders, massing the confused situation with even more noise. Now exposed and taking fire, the Gatekeeper sealed it s shell shut.  With no tentacles swinging at them, Ruby and Yang could now fire off explosive Dust at the Gatekeeper, alternative their fire to ensure it never had a free moment.

 

Qrow was soon by their side. When had he gotten there? Did it matter? Not really. Together with Jaune and Blake, the five dodged its attacks – and friendly bullets – while taking down the Gatekeeper. Qrow's scythe opened up a gaping hole, revealing its disgusting interior. As if enraged, it opened up again to swing its tentacles at them, knocking each of them down and delivering stinging blows that Yang was sure would have killed anyone else.

 

“BLOW UP THAT RELAY!” Bradford shouted into their radios, “ W e have less than  **two** **minutes** !”

Yang turned to look at the relay, taking cover behind a convenient box. There was a clear shot to it now. Tyson saw it too. He looked pointedly at Yang, then at Blake. Blake was returning his gaze with a fierce look in her eyes, shaking her head firmly. _“No,”_ she mouthed, although they couldn't hear it. Tyson either didn't see it, or didn't care, and took off running for the relay, dropping his MG3 to get more speed. Yang couldn't hear Blake scream, but she did see her open her mouth.

 

“Run for cover,” Ana ordered. “That Gatekeeper's going to blow!”

As predicted, the Gatekeeper was in a self-destruct mode, collapsing to the ground and forcing them to cover. Yang didn't see any sign of the once-dead aliens and friendly faces it commanded, not that she wanted to. She had dove behind a series of sturdy-looking boxes, which provided plenty of cover from the Gatekeeper's explosion.

 

“Where the fuck did Tyson go?” Blake asked as the Gatekeeper's explosion subsided. “Where is he?!”

“I saw him head into the relay room!” Pyrrha shouted.

Yang and Blake were about to head into it, meeting near the door, when an explosion rocked them off their feet and onto the floor once more. They sat up to look inside, flames spilling out of the room. There was no sign of Tyson, or the relay.

“ _NO!”_ Blake screamed.  She made as if to run into the inferno, but Yang stopped her, tackling her to the ground.

Both of them were quickly turned around by Price and Ana, the former grabbing Yang's hand and forcing her up.

“On your feet, soldier,” Price said as he helped her up. “We.  A re.  _**Leaving!** _ ”

 

There was no time to look, Yang could hear Ana say, they had to leave. The relay was connected to the ship's main generator, and with it gone, it had started a chain reaction that would destroy the entire ship. Explosions from deep within the ship reverberated down the halls as they made their escape. They managed to reach the exterior platforms no worse for wear, where the harsh sunlight blinded Yang as she ran out, led by Price.

 

Once they had gotten to a safe distance, all surviving soldiers paused, turning back to look at their handiwork. The alien ship was rapidly sinking into the ocean, splitting in half and taking part of the platform with it. Scattered Grimm leaped off the sinking ship to risk their chances in the sea, not tempted to interfere with the victorious warriors. Blake collapsed to her knees in pure, unadulterated shock.

“God dammit,” she said through heavy sobs. “Why the fuck did you have to be the hero, Tyson?”

“I'm so sorry, Blake,” Yang said, sitting next to her friend. “I'm so, so, sorry.”

“All he wanted was to be able to stop fighting,” she wailed. “We can't even give him a proper burial now. Why the fu-”

Her words were cut short as she looked up, gasping quietly. Slowly, the others too looked up, seeing what she did.

 

It was Tyson, limping his way across the platform,  clutching his arm. Blake immediately got up and ran to him, practically tackling him to the ground to make sure he was okay. Nearby, their transports began to arrive, allowing them to finally leave.

 

They had finally beaten the aliens at their own game. The aliens were no longer a threat to Remnant, or Earth, any longer.

 

* * *

 

 

There were more than a few songs written in their honor. A worldwide celebration had been commemorated for them, and each kingdom declared all soldiers who fought for XCOM heroes, offering places for them to live, residency, and professorships for Price, Ana, Tyson, Bradford, Tygan, Shen and the Commander at their academies. Atlas in particular was interested in Tyson's experience, offering a position in their war college for their conventional forces.

 

Overall, though, the soldiers of XCOM were just happy to live wherever they may fall, promising to keep in touch through any method possible.  Ana decided to stay in Mistral, finding the people and customs amenable to her lifestyle. Price decided to relocate alongside Micheal to Vale, while Freeman opted to head to Vacuo, probably seeking opportunities to live as lawless as he had conducted the war. The Commander and Bradford headed to Atlas, both taking up positions with the Atlesian military and Atlas Academy as combat instructors, promising to bring forth a new generation of warfare to the Atlesian military and the Hunters and Huntresses of Atlas. Tygan and Shen, meanwhile, headed respectively to Atlas and Vale, each seeking to further their understanding of Remnant's physics and engineering.

 

Tyson was the only real unknown element, only staying by Blake's side for the moment. He hadn't taken up any offers from the various academies or from the Atlesian military, saying he just wanted to “be” for a while.  Rumors sustained that he spoke of Marxist-Leninist Thought to anyone who cared to listen, and already some claimed to follow it, but nobody was sure whether it was because of him, or if Moira had done some extracurricular activity in her spare time.

 

Of course, while the war against the aliens had ended, the war against Salem was just beginning. Each soldier left the headquarters knowing full well that they would soon be called up again for service, this time in a fight to prevent Remnant from turning into Salem's personal playground. It was a fight they all knew would be coming eventually. When it would start in earnest, nobody knew.

 

The experience had changed all of them as well, for better or worse. Ruby and Yang, while still close as two sisters could ever be, had a noticeable distance to them after Yang killed Moira in cold blood, a rift that Yang would never perceive or heal. Blake retained her usual reserved ways, but around Tyson, even a blind person could see the openness she had with him that none could replicate. Weiss had visibly relaxed since their fight at Haven Academy.  Ruby herself still maintained a positive attitude, but her eyes no longer glittered as they did. Her optimism had been broken by the alien's brutality, and instead of a world full of opportunity, Ruby saw the world as it always had been.

 

Yang would never admit it, but Moira had won a small victory over  Yang on the day she passed. Moira once lectured them how, when faced with the most desperate of situations, everyone had a “fight or flight” response, and speculated each member of RWBY would choose fight over flight every single time. It was in their biology, she said, only natural for them to follow it. By destroying every trace of Moira, Yang had proven her right.

 

However, Jaune had been s hattered by the horrors of the aliens, closing himself off and eliminating any joy he once had. Ren and Nora seemed unaffected, but the wounds each had sustained were unmistakeable and scarred them, permanent reminders of terrible times. And as for Pyrrha...nobody was ever sure she would reintegrate. Not even Pyrrha herself was fully comfortable walking in her own skin.

 

In Mistral, there stood a statue built to honor those who had died for XCOM and Remnant. On the base was carved the name of every soldier who had fought and died since the war began on Earth, a massive list of names and dates. RWBY and JNPR visited it once, uncovering hidden history; Ana had a daughter once, Fareeha Amari, who had died early in the war. None of them had known she had a daughter, much less one who died fighting the aliens. She had simply never mentioned it.

 

Weiss, Pyrrha and Yang, meanwhile, found names both familiar and new. Each of them lingered over the names of Killip, Mundy, Ludwig, Rex, Hannah. It was hard to believe, that out of all of them, they had been unable to see the end of the war. Tyson filled them in on other names, giving them the two highest Overwatch officers – Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes – and some of their bravest fighters that they never met, since they had passed before the three joined the Avenger.

 

Perhaps more fittingly, however, the statue itself bore the likeness es of Hannah, Killip, and Ludwig, the latter added by the Commander, Price, and Ana's recommendation. Breaking the monotony of names and death dates was a plaque that commemorated the lives of those who died for Remnant, to the “Defenders Without Fear”.


End file.
